Moonrise
by BlackFrostWarrior
Summary: A year after their incredible journey, Shadow, Sassy and Chance find themselves facing the greatest danger of their lives. This time, it's in their own backyard...
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: I'd say this story is the product of too many nights without sleep and too many bad horror flicks (as though there's any other kind)_

_Set prior to Homeward Bound II (or, better yet, forget that movie even exists. Please. Do the world a favor). Potentially AU. Having written all this, I vaguely recall seeing a fence around the Seaver property but, for the sake of the story, I'm pretending the place was unfenced._

_So let's get all of this out of the way:_

_1. I normally post updates once per day. I try to leave an Author's Note if anything unusual is going on. Asking me to update will not hurry the process at all._

_2. I write for the fun of it. I publish for your amusement. If you are not being amused, feel free to stop and find something that will amuse you._

_3. I enjoy reviews, be they positive or negative in nature. So feel perfectly free to say what you like._

_4. I don't answer review questions. If you have a question, send me a message. But know that I won't give spoilers on my story._

_I think that's it. Please, do enjoy the story._

* * *

_"In self-defense and in defense of the innocent, cowardice is the only sin."_

_**~ Dean Koontz**_

* * *

**FRIDAY**

For Chance, the day had begun like any other. Like most of his kind, Chance greeted each new day with warm enthusiasm, a habit which was not shared by those he lived with.

While he ran in circles, leaping excitedly and making loud incoherent noises, the others generally stumbled out of bed like it was a funeral march. They would struggle to sit up, yawn numerous times and then would stagger gracelessly out of bed.

This behavior was extremely perplexing to Chance who, like most of his kind, had been born to believe that each day was a gift, a wonderful adventure just waiting to be had. Each day brought with it the promise of something new, as well as the continuation of that which he found familiar and dear.

But Chance, like most of his kind, had little idea of the daily toils of those he lived with. He had no understanding of money, not of commerce or bargaining. He had no knowledge of government or education. He could not know why those he lived with thought leaving their home to be such a chore. Whenever he went with them, he had a grand time. Yet all behaved as if the bright world outside hurt their eyes, and often the world seemed to distress them greatly.

But for Chance, morning was a time to speak loudly, and rejoice in being alive. For this reason, he was usually let out of the house first thing in the morning. Sassy often slept until noon and, during bad weather, would refuse to leave the house at all. Shadow took his time getting up. He was always ready to go outside when someone was available to let him out, but the old dog was never in a hurry.

This was especially true at this time of year. The leg he'd injured a year ago had never quite healed, and it clearly pained him during cold weather, in addition to all the other aches which seemed to be such a part of old age. But he'd proven he could still run with the best of them, and had more in him even now than some dogs had in their prime.

In any case, Chance was first out the door. He had a lot to do today, and he set right to work. He barked at the mailman, and a delivery guy. He chased a number of squirrels and marked every tree in the yard before setting out into the woods behind the house in search of a bone he'd buried there last week. It was probably pretty delicious by now, having lain in the dirt all week.

Shadow was outside by the time Chance set out to the woods, but he did not accompany the younger dog. Instead, he found a sunny spot in the yard and lay down to bask in the warm rays, the last there would be for some time if the wind's chill was any indication.

"I don't see how you can just lie there with those woods out there, just waiting to be explored," Chance said, trying to bait the old dog into accompanying him.

Like most dogs, Chance enjoyed company.

"Those woods have been explored," Shadow replied neutrally "you explored them yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that. Three times, most days,"

"But not last night. Can you imagine the kind of stuff that's been going on in there?. Squirrels, birds, rabbits, who knows!. Maybe even a moose!,"

Shadow rolled his eyes in the direction of the woods without raising his head. Then he looked at Chance. His expression was clearly dismissive. He had absolutely no interest whatsoever in going out to the woods, and wasn't impressed by Chance's description, either.

"Why would you ever want to explore the woods?," Sassy asked, stepping daintily out onto the front porch and then carefully seating herself, fluffy tail curled around her paws "you've lived in the woods. You know how awful they are," she began to bathe, pausing between licks to continue her questions "haven't you seen enough yet?. Or did you learn nothing at all from what happened to us?,"

"You don't get it," Chance said, looking at the woods with longing "there's all kinds of cool stuff out there, just waiting for me to find it. Maybe I'll even find a good stick to chew,"

"How revolting," Sassy meowed, but Chance decided to ignore her and bounded out into the woods.

As he'd expected, Chance found a wide variety of things to occupy his attention. He chased some rabbits, almost cornered one when it reached the edge of brook, but the rabbit veered sharply away and Chance splashed right across it before coming to an ungainly halt, turning and lumbering after the escaping rodent. He found a possum in a tree and yapped at it for awhile, before growing bored and running off to follow the scent of a deer herd which had passed through during the night.

Tail high and wagging, he followed their trail, which led him back to the brook and then ran parallel to it. He briefly snuffled at an empty hollow log before picking up the trail once more.

"The wild dog must constantly work to hone his instincts," Chance said aloud to himself "for only constant practice will enable him to-," he never finished the sentence.

The ground beneath his paws was vibrating. He stopped dead in his tracks and looked at the rattling pebbles on the trail, then up ahead. This had never happened before. He wasn't sure what to make of it. There was a roaring in his ears, but it might have just been the sound of his blood. He was so consumed by the vibration and sound that he forgot to sniff.

The bushes in front of him rustled, firstly quietly, then more and more violently. The big dog felt a tremor run through him and he backed up. If Shadow had been with him, he would have made a brave show, but as he was alone, he had no one to protect his reputation from.

Just as he decided to run, the bushes parted and large, swift figures bounded into view. The deer herd was stampeding towards him, leaping and bounding, their breath coming in snorting gasps. Chance barked at them futilely. They came on, rushing like a single body, faster than Chance could ever hope to be. Even so, seeing that they would not turn, he whirled about and fled at top speed, forgetting everything about being a "wild dog" and that adventure was specifically what he'd come out here to find. He'd found it alright, and wanted to lose it as fast as possible.

The deer had almost overtaken him when his path and theirs turned sharply away from one another. The deer followed the curve of the brook, while Chance splashed across it. He'd run on several yards before realizing they weren't following.

Curiosity overcame his fear and he halted, turned back and crept to the bank. He wanted a look at whatever it was that had scared the deer so.

The pungent smell of fear hung heavy in the late autumn air, seeming to cling to the forest like frost in winter. It was more than simple fear scent though. Chance noticed that smell each time he chased a rabbit. This was something... more. These deer were more than afraid, they were terrified.

What could frighten them so badly?. Chance was wondering if he really did want to see the monstrous predator that was after the deer when a new scent blew in on the wind. A bad smell. An evil smell.

Chance yelped as though the odor had stricken him across the face, and backed up, an involuntary defensive growl welling up in his throat. His tail lowered, then tucked and he kept backing. The powerful smell was overwhelming, all-consuming. He couldn't think, could barely breathe. All he knew was that he wanted to get away from it, but he dared not turn his back on it.

His lips curled and his eyes rolled and he growled again. As soon as he was beyond the bank of the brook, he turned and fled through the woods, making straight for home as fast as his legs were capable of carrying him, not slowing or stopping even when his breath began to come in gasps.

He hadn't managed to regain any composure at all on reaching the yard. He ran full steam, vaulted the seesaw and careened around the sand box. He leaped onto the porch and only then realized he had to slow down because his way was barred by the front door.

His claws skittered uselessly on the wood and he swung himself sidewise, hitting the door with his shoulder. As he did so, Sassy yowled in protest and leaped from the welcome mat onto the railing, her fur puffed out and eyes wide.

As Chance impacted, Shadow had gotten to his feet and began to bark. He knew Chance was running from something, and it was his instinct to warn whatever it was off the property. He had no idea what Chance was fleeing from, but he didn't appear to care. Whatever it was, it had no right to be here.

Hearing the deep bark of Shadow made Chance feel a twinge of embarrassment. He'd been a coward to run like he had, and he might well have led the thing, whatever it was, right to their front door. Trembling with guilt, he crept down the stairs and came crawling to Shadow's side, unable to muster in himself the courage to bark, but unwilling to let the old dog take a stand alone.

When nothing came tearing out of the forest after a minute, Shadow ceased his barking and listened expectantly. Hearing nothing unusual, he sniffed at the air, seeking evidence of the terrible something which had driven Chance from the woods.

"What is it?. What's out there?," Sassy asked nervously, peering down from the railing.

She was seriously considering climbing up to the roof. For a better view of course. After all, it wasn't like she was scared or anything. Her tail lashed of its own accord, refusing to let her kid herself.

"I dunno," Chance managed to whisper "but it was big, and it was hideous and awful and... and... and I don't think it followed me. It must have kept chasing the deer,"

"Deer?," Shadow swung his head towards Chance, his gaze critical "you panicked over a herd of deer?,"

"No, something was chasing them," Chance insisted "it was huge and monstrous and had these, these claws and... and this horrible smell,"

Sassy hissed at the description, but Shadow wasn't impressed. He could see the guilt written plainly on Chance's face. Maybe something had spooked him, but it probably didn't match his description at all. Chance had the gift of exaggeration, and more pride than good sense.

"Show me where it was," Shadow ordered.

"I'll just stay here," Sassy meowed from the railing "you two can tell me all about it when you get back,"

Chance, having recovered from his fear, was eager to prove that the _thing_ was really out there, and that it was every bit as terrible as he'd described. He led the way, and kept running on in the hopes that the creature would still be nearby, but Shadow would not be hurried and trotted at an even pace, keeping to the trail the two of them had forged through many a forest exploration.

"Hurry up!," Chance called, trying to goad Shadow into picking up the pace "it's not far now!,"

"The scent will still be there," Shadow replied mildly "even if your monster isn't, it will have left a scent trail behind. You know that as well as I do,"

"Well yeah, but-,"

"If it was chasing deer like you said, it's already long gone. A minute or two more won't make any difference to the trail it left. So pipe down,"

They reached the brook and Chance hesitated, putting his head down warily. Shadow didn't break stride as he splashed into the water, making his steady way across and then pulling to an abrupt halt. Even from across the water, Chance could see the golden fur about Shadow's neck bristling and the hair along his back rise in a stiff ridge.

The older dog flattened his ears to his head and began to back up. Then he shook himself, and dropped his head, putting his nose to the ground and inhaling deeply. That only made Chance even more uneasy. If even Shadow had to struggle against the urge to run just from the scent, it must be bad.

"I told you I didn't imagine it!," Chance shouted, but Shadow ignored him.

Now Shadow was trotting up and down the bank, head still down as he made out the beast's trail by scent. Suddenly he stopped, one paw raised, halted mid-step by something he'd either seen or smelled.

"What?. What did you find?," Chance asked, but Shadow didn't respond.

Taking a deep breath, Chance plunged across the brook and came to stand beside Shadow. The smell was not as overwhelming as it had been, the creature it belonged to was evidently long gone. But it was still awful, and Chance couldn't help but shiver. The forest didn't seem so friendly anymore.

At first, he couldn't figure out what Shadow had found. He sniffed and snuffed, but all he could find was the smell of the creature, the same wherever he found it. Powerful, offensive, all-pervading. Then Chance realized it wasn't the scent which had so entranced Shadow, but something on the ground.

Chance looked, but at first didn't see what was so interesting about the track on the ground. A dog's sight is relatively poor, and Chance certainly hadn't much practiced using his eyes for identification purposes. But when he did see, he had to sit down and whine a bit to ease his confusion.

There, right in front of Shadow, was a print. But not an animal one. It looked for all the world like the tread of a sneaker. That was impossible, there was no fresh human scent in the area. But the print was there nevertheless, plain as day once you saw it, unmistakable, undeniable.


	2. Chapter 2

Shadow was quiet on the way back to the house, but it seemed to Chance that he was panting more heavily than usual, a sure sign that he was deeply worried. For whatever reason, he had decided not to follow the scent trail, and Chance was just as glad of that. It meant he didn't have to pit his pride against his cowardice, or look bad in front of Shadow. It also meant he wouldn't have to face the thing, which he was convinced could tear him apart.

He was reminded distantly of the bear he'd encountered once. Somehow the scent gave the impression of a hulking, shaggy behemoth, ferocious in disposition and inherently violent in nature. Only this thing smelled ever so much more dangerous than a mere grizzly. That single notion was enough to make Chance lag behind, dragging his feet miserably at the thought that there was something in the world more hazardous than a raging mother bear.

A thought struck him and he felt a surge of hope. He loped up to Shadow's side and voiced his hopeful thought, wishing with all his heart that Shadow would see it as a sensible one and confirm what he wanted to believe more than anything in the world.

"Maybe... maybe it's gone on," he suggested "maybe it's just passing through. You know, like it's migrating or something. Or... um... well, maybe it's looking for a hunting ground. There's not enough wildlife here to support a big predator is there?. Is there?,"

Truthfully, Chance hadn't the foggiest idea how much prey there needed to be, he'd never once given it a thought. But now he'd latched onto the idea, and he wanted it to be true. It seemed reasonable. After all, there weren't bears or mountain lions around. Not here.

"No," Shadow replied "but I don't think it's going to be that simple,"

"What?. Why not?,"

"That scent... it didn't belong to a predator,"

"Huh?," Chance stopped dead in his tracks, then had to run to catch up with Shadow "what do you mean?. It was chasing the deer, it must have been hunting them,"

"So what?,"

Chance wasn't sure how to answer that. By his understanding, predators chased, killed and ate other animals. That was what made him predatory. Or would have, if he'd been a wild thing as he often pretended to be. Sassy herself was predatory, if only because her cat food wasn't mouse flavored. But still, wasn't that how being predatory worked?.

"Chance, that wasn't the smell of a hungry animal," Shadow sighed, seeing the bewilderment on the younger dog's face "it wasn't hunting the deer for food,"

"It wasn't?. What was it hunting them for then?,"

"You should know," Shadow replied "you do it all the time,"

"Do what?... you mean... track and chase for fun?," Chase guessed "well yeah, but I don't run deer like that. You didn't see them," he shuddered, remembering.

The deer had been rolling their eyes, foam had spewed from their open mouths as their tongues lolled and flapped in the wind generated by their forward motion. Their bodies had been so heated that Chance could feel it from a distance. They'd been run into exhaustion.

"And I don't kill things," Chance went on "except squirrels. I'd totally kill a squirrel,"

"If you could catch it," Shadow snorted, then became serious "that's the difference between us and that... _thing_. We've killed for food, and Sassy kills to keep the vermin population down. Never mind that she has fun while she's at it, that's more about sharpening her skills anyway. But that... out there," he halted and looked over his shoulder uneasily "that isn't an animal. I don't know what it is, but I do know that. And, whatever it is, it's hunting and killing only for the fun of it,"

"Uhh...," Chance shuddered, then shook himself "well maybe it'll have more fun in somebody else's woods, huh?. I mean, I chase the animals around here all the time. I bet there's more somewhere else, that are easier to catch, right?,"

"Maybe," Shadow conceded, but did not appear convinced.

As they approached the house, Chance realized there was something out of the ordinary. Something seemed different. The smell was different. He felt a stab of fear, not for himself, but for Jamie, who was inside the house. He let loose a thunderous bark and bounded towards the house.

"Chance!. Wait!," Shadow shouted after him, but his voice went unheard.

Chance bounded onto the porch and heaved his full bulk of ninety pounds against the door. Still barking, he backed up and lined himself up for another go at the door, which hadn't budged.

"Chance, stop it!," Shadow barked, but the young dog lunged at the door a second time anyway.

Shadow climbed the porch steps and, as Chance backed up to hit the door again, he stepped into the bigger dog's path with calm deliberation. And there he stood, cool and completely collected.

"Stop it. Right now," Shadow said, and this time Chance heard him "can't you smell straight?. We just have company. That's all. Calm down,"

At this point, Jamie opened the door.

"Come inside, Chance," he beckoned "Aunt Tracy and Uncle Jim are here,"

Meekly, Chance padded past Shadow and Jamie and walked into the house. He followed Jamie into the living room where the guests were seated, drinking coffee and chatting with the family. Aunt Tracy was Mom's sister, Jim was Tracy's husband.

Chance stood in the middle of the room, looking from one family member to another. Sassy was curled up on the piano for a nap, but her sapphire eyes opened at the sound of the dog's nails clicking on the floor. Shadow had taken the rear of the procession and went to lie down next to Peter.

"Well, what did you find?," Sassy asked, trying to sound casual.

"Evil, that's what," Chance snapped, and paced mournfully across the room to sit next to Jamie.

He looked up at his boy, but found no comfort there. Jamie was blissfully unaware of the thing in the woods, oblivious of all danger and fully absorbed in what the humans were talking about.

"Bob and I, well, we need some time alone together," Mom was saying "I'm so glad you and Jim can stay for the weekend, it takes a lot of the pressure off,"

"We're happy to do it," Tracy replied "the kid's will be fine, don't you worry about it,"

"I can't help it," Mom said "but I'm sure you'll take good care of them,"

"And they'll take care of the animals," Dad replied "Jamie might forget to feed Chance, but you'll know if he has because Chance... well... he's unmanageable anyway, but it's worse if he hasn't been fed,"

"Besides," Peter put in "Chance wouldn't let us forget. If he doesn't get fed, he'll bark,"

"A lot," Jamie added "and he drools too,"

"Oh no," Shadow moaned, looking from one family member to another.

"What?. What's going on?," Chance asked, rising to his feet.

"They're going to leave," Shadow replied, moving to a sitting position "Bob and Laura, they're going away. They shouldn't go away," he looked up at Peter as though seeking in the boy's face some sort of understanding, but there was none to be found.

He was clearly resisting the urge to whine, but Chance didn't have the self-control for that. He whimpered morosely and sat, leaning against Jamie, licking the boy's hand.

"How can you tell?. Are you sure?," Chance asked.

"Yes, but I don't know why. They really shouldn't leave right now," Shadow repeated.

"Then we've got to stop them!," Chance decided, getting to his feet again.

Purposefully, he bounded from the room and leaped up the stairs. To his dismay, the master bedroom door was shut. He pawed at it, but it was latched. Frantic now, Chance scratched at it and began to yelp his distress. Sassy, who had followed him, looked on dispassionately.

"You'll never get in that way," She purred "and why do you want to anyway?. What's so bad about them leaving?. They'll be back, I can tell they won't be gone long. Shadow can too,"

"You weren't there," Chance growled, still digging futilely at the door "you didn't smell it, so you don't know!. That thing in the woods... it's not just a wild animal... it's... it's... I don't know... maybe it's a moose. I just know it's bad, and they shouldn't go, they shouldn't leave us here,"

In Chance's view, and Shadow's as well, Mom and Dad (or Laura and Bob) were the pack leaders. It was their job to protect and give instruction to the rest of the family. To decide what should be done in tense situations. And this certainly qualified. Neither Chance nor Shadow relished the idea of that responsibility falling to them. But it surely would if the parents left. The kids certainly couldn't make the tough choices. Not yet.

Sassy, being a cat, didn't get what the big deal was about. Independent by nature, she didn't feel the need of anyone's protection. Save, perhaps, Shadow. Her trust in the old dog knew no bounds. Being a cat, Sassy had no illusions that humans were anything special. Where a dog looks upon man as man might look upon God, a cat will do no such thing. She may love her people, but she believes that it is they who should adore her, not the other way around.

"Well wild animals never come near houses. Shadow says so," Sassy told him "so don't worry your dumb smelly head about it. Go chew some shoes or something, you'll feel better,"

"But it's not!," Chance was panting now, and still pawing at the door with all his might "it's not a wild animal!. Shadow said it's not an animal at all!,"

"Chance!. Come here, boy!," Jamie called from downstairs.

For the first time, Chance was reluctant to answer his boy. He hesitated, but at Jamie's second call, he turned away from the door, realizing he couldn't get in. Dejectedly, he descended the stairs and traipsed into the living room, avoiding Shadow's gaze.

"You had to know the door was locked," Shadow said gently "Humans learn from experience, and you've torn up enough blouses for them to take some precautions,"

"Yeah...," Chance sighed and dropped to a lying down position heavily.

The three animals watched nervously while Mom and Dad made their final preparations, observed in silence as they went upstairs for their bags, then followed them to the door. Mom and Dad, happy and unaware of the danger, hugged everyone and then left. The remaining family waved from the front porch until the car was out of sight.

"Now we're in trouble," Chance groaned "I... I don't like this. Maybe I can chase them down and make them come back. You think that would work?,"

"No," Shadow replied, then sighed "No. They're gone, and it's up to us to protect the family until they get back," he got up and strode to the edge of the yard and looked out at the forest.

Chance stayed closer to the house, but watched the old dog closely, wondering what Shadow was doing. Sassy, for her part, had been picked up by Hope and carried into the house, where she would have her afternoon brushing, as was necessary for a cat who had a coat like hers.

For a moment, Shadow dropped his head down between his shoulders. The fur along his back and neck stood on end and he seemed twice as large somehow. His tail stood out behind him stiffly. He then let loose a noise which was half a bark, half a growl, and all menace. Just one, and that was all. But the meaning was clear. Even a human could understand it. It meant: _There's a dog living here, and he'll protect this place. Stay away if you know what's good for you._

"Shadow?. What is it, boy?," Peter asked.

Hearing the voice of his boy, Shadow flattened his coat and turned towards him, jaws parted in a weary and nervous pant. Silently, he came to stand by his boy.

"Don't worry, Shadow," Peter said "they're only gone for the weekend. They'll be back on Monday,"

But Shadow would not be soothed. He had no way of knowing what that meant. If he had known what day of the week it was, or what a week was, it wouldn't have made him feel any better. Monday was a long way off.


	3. Chapter 3

Chance spent the rest of the day pacing from one place to another, first in the house, then outside, then back again, until Jamie got tired of letting him in and out and left him outside. Then he paced around the house, then around again, then lay down on the back porch, got up, and paced some more.

Shadow, for his part, stayed at the edge of the property, looking out at the woods. Each time there was a noise, his hackles went up, but it always turned out to be one of the usual suspects and nothing to get alarmed about. He only left his post when Peter called him to come play ball for awhile. But it was clear Shadow's heart was not in it for once and Peter soon gave up and left him alone, whereupon the dog immediately returned to his station out back.

"I don't understand what's gotten into him," Peter told Uncle Jim.

"He's probably just worried about your parents," Uncle Jim replied "old dogs don't like change,"

"But he's looking out back. If he was waiting for Mom and Dad to come home, he would be standing at the mailbox. Besides, they've left before and he's never acted this way,"

Jim tried a few more tactics to get Peter's mind off the dog, but eventually gave up. Peter and Shadow were so attuned to one another that they knew immediately when the other was worried about something in more than the usual way. Peter didn't know what was bothering his dog, but he knew it must be something. Unlike Chance, Shadow didn't make a big deal over nothing.

There was something out in the woods, Peter was sure of it. Something which had his dog very concerned. He resolved to make sure everyone, kids and animals included, was inside by nightfall. He'd never been scared of the woods before, having lived his whole life here. But if Shadow thought there was something out there, who was he to ignore his dog's warning?.

The setting sun only increased Chance's agitation. He added whining to his pacing, and frequently stopped to scent the air. He wasn't sure if it was just his own trepidation getting to him, or if it was Shadow's odd behavior. If Shadow was concerned, he should be too, that much he did know.

"Shadow!. Chance!," Peter's voice in the dusk pulled both dogs from their activities.

They came without enthusiasm, knowing they were being called in for the night. They would spend the night inside, where scents and sounds were muffled, where walls blocked their view on every side. But they had a certain amount of confidence in the house. After all, it was able to keep them in or out, so they had sort of formed the belief that it could keep anything in or out, provided that it couldn't use the door. And the doors were locked at night, so anyone wanting in would need a key to open it.

They knew this, and yet they still hesitated at the foot of the porch steps. Shadow looked over his shoulder, Chance whined low in his throat.

"Come on, guys," Peter ordered "time for bed,"

Shadow climbed the steps obediently, and Chance followed, looking over his shoulder time and again, unhappy about leaving the outdoors unguarded overnight. He went at once up the stairs to Jamie's room to wait for his boy to finish brushing his teeth and climb into bed.

Chance had a bed of his own, but would invariably climb onto Jamie's bed as soon as all the lights in the house were out. Tonight, he did not wait for that. He leaped onto the bed and was sitting there when Jamie came in.

"Chance, you're not supposed to be in my bed," Jamie said "get in your own,"

His pointing finger was enough to send the large dog oozing off the mattress and onto the floor. He crawled his way to his own bed and looked over his shoulder miserably, hoping for a change of heart. But the boy knew the house rules. Dogs didn't belong on the bed. As soon as Tracy and Jim went to bed, he would call the dog onto the bed, but until then, Chance had to stay on the floor.

"In bed, Chance," Jamie insisted.

And Chance unwillingly obeyed. He curled up in his dog bed and looked out the window. Night had fallen all in an instant, and the black sky was lit by scores of stars and a bright almost full moon. Jamie wouldn't need his nightlight tonight, there was enough light coming in through the window that he could get to sleep without it.

In the next room down, Sassy was making herself comfortable on Hope's bed. As a cat, she had certain privileges that the dogs didn't. She was allowed on all the furniture save the kitchen counters and the dining room table. Those two places were her only limitations. And so, the bed of her dearest Hope was also her own bed every night.

Down the hall, Shadow was lying next to Peter's bed. He didn't get into his own dog bed, because he had no intention of sleeping tonight. As soon as Peter was asleep, he was going to go downstairs and keep watch at the door. Something inside was telling him that the safety of the house was only an illusion. He had no reason to believe that. Nobody had broken into the house during his lifetime, nothing had ever breached the security of the doors and windows except for some bugs, maybe a lizard or two and a few mice over the years, which were Sassy's responsibility, not his.

But Shadow had never been one for ignoring his sixth sense. It had served him well and, with a lifetime of practice, he had become near-perfect at separating it from his own feelings, and listening to it instead of what he felt. And his sixth sense was telling him that the house was not the fortress he believed it to be. That something which was out there wasn't gone, and the house was small protection against it, whatever it was.

He lay quietly on the floor right next to the bed until Peter fell asleep, then arose and walked to the door, pushing his nose between the door and the jamb and prying it open. He stepped out into the hall, and looked first up it, towards Jamie and Hope's rooms, then down it to towards the master bedroom and guest bedroom. Something didn't seem quiet right, but he attributed this to nerves and went down the stairs without investigating.

He was getting too old for this. His body was weary, he was used to napping most of the day away. His mind, so clear in his younger years, seemed barely able to wrap itself around the problem which had been presented to him. And his nerves weren't as steely as they'd once been.

Shadow lay down at the foot of the stairs, his eyes on the front door, but his ears turned to listen for sounds at the back, his head on his right forepaw. Moonlight stole its way through the curtained windows, reaching almost to where the shaggy dog lay, not quite touching him as he lay in the shadows, out of sight of anyone who might be looking in.

The soft, whispering patter of little cat feet alerted Shadow to the fact that Sassy was descending the stairs. The nonchalance she'd been feigning all day was gone as she slipped down the stairs. She hopped over Shadow and then up onto a chair next to the stairs and from their onto an end table.

She sat down and curled her tail around her paws primly, blinking her large eyes and yawning.

"Go to bed, Sassy," Shadow recommended, lifting his head so he could look at her "you don't need to worry, I'll protect you,"

"I'm not worried," Sassy lied, lifting one forepaw and beginning to wash it "I just needed some air,"

Shadow didn't call her on the lie, instead putting his head back on his paws.

"Besides, a cat doesn't need a dog for protection," Sassy went on, as though Shadow were arguing with her "I can take care of myself,"

"I'm sure you can," Shadow said softly.

Before he could go on, there was a thump from upstairs, and the sound of nails on the floor. Before long, Chance appeared at the head of the stairs. He trotted down them and leaped over Shadow. This maneuver was less graceful than when Sassy did it, and Chance slid on the floor, nearly knocking into the wall. He avoided this only by splaying out his legs and flattening on his belly.

"Shh!," Shadow scolded "there are people trying to sleep,"

"Yeah well," Chance grunted, getting up "what's more important: their sleep or their lives?,"

"What do you think I'm down here for?," Shadow asked "it's not because I like sleeping alone,"

"You're not alone," Chance pointed out "you've got us,"

Shadow made a small moaning sound, but said nothing.

The animals settled in for the night. Sassy tucked her paws beneath her belly and lay down, resting her head on her chest. Chance crawled under the end table and lay on his side, stretching his legs out so that they stuck beyond the edge of the table. Shadow stayed where he was.

They all tried to stay awake but, one by one, they slowly succumbed to sleep. They were house pets, accustomed to eating, playing and sleeping at regular hours.

Chance was the first to go, and started snoring almost at once. Sassy had to jump down and slap him across the muzzle with a paw to get him to stop. He stretched, then tucked his legs to his body and rolled onto his back, his lips and ears flopping back absurdly.

Satisfied by this, Sassy leaped back onto the end table. But then she had second thoughts and climbed down to the chair next to it and curled up on the cushion, piling up all her feet and using them for a head pillow. It wasn't long before she too was asleep.

Shadow lay awake longer than any of them, holding himself rigidly still, straining to listen for something outside of the house, scenting the air now and then, watching, and waiting, knowing that something _was_ out there.

But as nothing happened, Shadow began to lose some of his vigilance. His body craved sleep, having sorely missed his usual naps. The longer everything was quiet, the harder it was for the old dog to stay awake. The easy breathing of his companions was soothing, and his eye lids started to droop. Several times he shook sleep off but, as midnight approached, he either gave up the struggle or was defeated by his own need for sleep. In either case, he too fell asleep.

Outside, the wild animals were restless. Something in the dark made them uneasy. They broke from cover, scrambling out into the pale moonlight, fleeing from the unknown, the Unknowable. Non-migratory birds took flight, squirrels leaped from tree branch to tree branch, raccoons and possums scampered through the night. From the mighty fall stags to the insignificant ants, all the animals were trying to get out of the forest. Coming upon the house, a thing of man, the creatures of the wild cut right and left, as water when it meets a boulder, flooding and swarming around the house.

But the two dogs and cat knew none of this, for they were deeply asleep. In the morning, they would discover track and trail, all of which meant but one thing: the beast in the forest was here to stay.

It had chosen this as its killing ground.


	4. Chapter 4

**SATURDAY**

A pained yelp cut sharply through Chance's dreams. The big dog startled and leaped to his feet, forgetting that he was under a table and banging his head on it as he launched himself forward. For once it was a good thing that the floor was slick. Not quite awake, Chance had a growl ready in his throat, but his paws slipped from under him and he went down with a yelp.

By the time he got to his feet, he was a little clearer headed and was able to see what had happened.

"Oh, Shadow, I'm sorry!," Tracy was saying "what are you doing down here?. Shouldn't you be in Peter's room?,"

Shadow was sitting at the foot of the stairs, one paw raised slightly. It was evident that Tracy had stepped on him. She was wearing tennis shoes, so it had hurt more than if she'd been in her bare feet. Shadow gazed up at her impassively, showing neither forgiveness nor resentment.

"I'm sorry, boy," She said, stroking the dog's head.

She then brushed past him and ran up the stairs.

"Somebody's in a hurry," Chance commented.

Shadow, who had been sniffing his foot to take stock of the damage, looked up suddenly.

"I don't see how she did it,"

"I do," Sassy yawned, stretching "you were at the bottom of the stairs, what did you expect to happen?,"

"No, not that," Shadow said, looking up the stairs contemplatively "I don't see how she got down the stairs without my noticing,"

"Face it, pops," Chance said, brushing by Shadow on his way to the kitchen "you're gettin' deaf,"

Sassy pranced after the young dog, eager for her own share of breakfast. Already she could smell bacon frying, and she was hoping for a morsel of that in addition to her own cat food. Shadow, however, stayed at the stairs, looking uncertainly up at the second floor.

"Maybe," he muttered as though he hadn't noticed they were gone "maybe I am getting deaf. But why didn't you or Sassy notice either?. What's your excuse?,"

A few minutes later, Peter, Hope and Jamie came downstairs. Shadow followed them into the kitchen, where Chance and Sassy were already waiting.

"No run before breakfast?," Peter asked the old dog.

Shadow made no move towards the door, so Peter shrugged and opened the cabinet where the animal food was kept. Sassy was already on the little kitchen table which had been set up for her so that she would be out of easy reach for Chance while she was eating.

Peter put Shadow's food down first, before helping Jamie with Chance's. Hope fed Sassy independently. Usually Chance was the first to finish, but this morning Shadow left his food half uneaten, going to the back door and barking to be let out.

"What's wrong, boy?," Peter asked, going to the dog's side "don't you want your breakfast?,"

Shadow looked at the door and barked again. Peter shrugged and opened the door to let him out. Chance, having inhaled his own food, quickly dispatched what Shadow left, before galloping over to the door to be let out. Sassy, meanwhile, daintily ate her own meal, then sat herself down for a good grooming.

Chance started to bound outside, then stopped halfway through as the smell hit him. Or smells, rather. All the different smells, of all the animals which had gone through here. Their utter terror at whatever had driven them in this manner.

"In or out, boy," Jim, who had opened the door for him, said.

Chance inched his way out, and the door closed behind him. But he went no further. Instead he set to trembling, then sat down and began to pant heavily. The smell of fear was overwhelming. And it was everywhere. In multiple varieties. It seemed like every kind of animal imaginable had run by here, fleeing in abject terror from that thing in the woods.

It never entered Chance's head that it could be anything other than the creature. Nothing else in the world could possibly cause this, he thought. Then again, until yesterday, he hadn't know there was a creature on earth which could drive a dog into a frenzy of fear with only its smell.

It took him a bit to steel himself against the onslaught of odors, and then he went looking for Shadow. The gold dog was sniffing around the edge of the yard, his tail out stiff behind him.

"What's going on around here?," Chance asked "why is this happening?,"

"Calm down," Shadow snapped "the important question is what are we going to do about it?,"

"Do about it?,"

Shadow, without answering or raising his head, trotted off towards the woods, tail high, signaling that he had found some kind of scent and was following it. Chance went with him reluctantly. The woods seemed unusually dark and forbidding. The deeper they went, the slower Chance walked. Shadow took no notice of him, consumed with what he was doing.

Suddenly Shadow stopped. Chance didn't have to ask why. They had stepped into a clearing that... well... hadn't been a clearing before. A tree had been uprooted, two more slashed and torn until they had fallen onto their sides, into the embrace of their brethren. Saplings had been crushed and trampled, forming a circle with torn earth at its center.

There were dark splashes on the broken leaves of the saplings, something black was oozing from the trunks of the trees. Chance gave it a whiff and whined, moving away as though bitten. It was blood. Here from a mouse, there from a bird, over there from a snake. Shadow's lips had curled back, not so much in a snarl as a reaction to the smell.

"What happened here?," Chance asked, though he feared he already knew.

"The creature was marking its territory. In destruction, in blood, in scent. Claiming the woods for itself," Shadow replied in a low voice.

"Oh?. Well... well... let it have the woods!," Chance exclaimed "we don't need woods, we can just... just not go here anymore, right?,"

"No," Shadow's voice was almost a growl "it's too close to home. We can't let it stay, Chance. If we did, it would eventually get Peter, or Jamie... or Hope. Maybe Sassy. No, Chance, we have to do something about it, and quickly,"

"Do?. Like what?. Shadow, hold up!,"

But Shadow was already marching back to the house. He paused now and then to look at the ground, or perhaps scent it. Chance avoided it, because he already knew what tracks he would find there. The sneaker print wasn't an isolated occurrence. Whatever this thing was... it wore shoes.

Shadow halted just beyond the edge of the yard. His head came up and he looked across at the house, then over his shoulder at Chance.

"It came this far. Then stopped," Shadow sniffed about some more "but why?,"

"Well maybe because I keep the territory markers fresh," Chance theorized "that's what they're for, after all, to warn off intruders,"

"This thing has frightened the entire forest out of its wits and you think that you, of all things, are its weakness?. You think this thing fears dogs?," Shadow was incredulous.

"It could happen," Chance retorted defensively "maybe it has a fear of open spaces,"

Shadow didn't dignify this suggestion with a response. Besides, if he shot down all of Chance's theories, he would eventually have to admit that he had no clue why the creature had halted beyond the borders of the Seaver property. Chance had to know that Shadow was as much in the dark as he was, but knowing in your heart and being forced to face it are two different things.

"Can you find the trail?," Shadow asked, changing the subject.

Chance snuffled around, eager to prove his talents before the old dog. He'd tracked so many rabbits that this ought to be a snap. But, try as he might, he could find nothing but the trail they had already followed. The one which led here.

"Where'd it go?," he wanted to know.

"I don't know," Shadow admitted "it may have doubled back. Or maybe...," he looked up.

"Maybe what?," Chance demanded, but Shadow ignored him so he repeated it "maybe what!?,"

Just then, something dripped on his nose from above. With a startled yelp, he dodged sideways and looked up, at which point his legs went rubbery and he dropped into a crouch.

There, up in the tree branches, was a body. It was too high up to recognize what kind of body, exactly, but it was big. Heavier than a deer, anyway. The branches were leaning, the wood groaning beneath the unwanted weight of the body. Blood coated the branches almost to the trunk, and there was a small pool of it on the ground next to where Chance had been standing.

"That's like... high... uh... like.. as tall as our house, high," Chance gulped.

What could drag dead weight, in excess of eighty pounds, that high up?. A leopard, perhaps. But they didn't live in Africa, and neither of the dogs knew anything of leopards. They'd never heard of anything which could do that. Aside from which, a leopard probably couldn't have carried it up that high.

"Hold still," Shadow had noticed the drop of blood on Chance's face.

"What?. Why?," But Chance held still, even without being told why.

Shadow's warm breath blew across his face and the old dog's whiskers tickled at his nose. Then the golden head withdrew sharply, and a growl accompanied the motion. Startled, Chance barked defensively. It had been instinctive. He knew Shadow wouldn't hurt him, but the sound which had come from the old dog made him question that knowledge.

"What?. What's on my face?," Chance asked, tossing his head as though, if he moved fast enough, he'd be able to look at his muzzle "what is it!?,"

"Nothing," Shadow's word was honest, but his voice betrayed the lie "calm down,"

Without waiting to see if Chance had believed him, Shadow trotted into the yard and towards the house. Watching, it seemed to Chance as if the dog's tail was carried a little bit lower, and his movement seemed off, as if his body were too heavy for his legs.

Meekly, Chance followed him, looking over his shoulder, but avoiding looking up at the tree. Whatever was up there, he probably didn't want to know about it.

Shadow lay down on the back porch, his eyes deeply contemplative. Chance decided to leave him alone. He scratched to get in. He found that the family hadn't yet finished breakfast. Normally this would have thrilled him and he would have spent the meal begging for scraps, pacing around the table, going from person to person and employing a combination of "sad puppy dog eyes" and "I don't want it" moves. Jamie was a sucker for it, and so was Uncle Jim.

But today Chance observed the meal from a corner, feeling as though he were looking through frosted glass at a life which was no longer his own. Because of the bad thing in the woods, he could no longer be the carefree and exuberant dog he was accustomed to being. Until it was gone, he must be vigilant, prepared to fight it off at any moment.

Ever ready, as Shadow was, to do whatever was needed. To bark and warn of danger, to growl and try to drive said danger away. And yes, even to bite and claw, should that be needed. Chance didn't know how to do that. Not really. In spite of all his bravado, he'd never hurt another animal in his life, except for the fish Sassy caught for him, and things like that.

He'd never had to really fight directly, in spite of his heritage as a bulldog.

But he knew, without Shadow's having to tell him, that a fight was inevitable. The thing would try to come, it would come to hunt and kill. And when it did, Chance would be ready and waiting for it. Because it could not be allowed in, no matter what the cost.

At stake was the life of Jamie, Chance's boy, whom he loved more than he'd ever realized was possible. He couldn't let the bad thing take that away from him. It could not be permitted to happen.

Yes, he would bite if he had to, claw if he must. But it was more than that, it went even deeper. He knew that it could cost him his life. Not his life with this family, but his life life. That thing out there, it had the power to rip a dog in half. Nobody had to tell Chance that, he just knew. His only hope was that Shadow had some kind of plan, a way of dealing with the thing out there, of making it go away. Or, perhaps a plan to kill it. Chance wasn't above killing to survive. No animal in the world is.

What Chance had just discovered, Shadow had known all along. His whole life, in fact. He had been prepared to lay down his life for Peter's since before he really knew what that meant. It only grieved him that it had happened so late in his life. He feared only that he might not be strong enough to protect Peter. But his age did give him one crucial advantage.

He knew those woods, and this house. He'd been given the run of both many years ago, and had broken no rules since, either nature's or man's, knowing that it was a privilege to know such freedom. He knew every bush and tree of the forest, every nail and board of the house.

More than that, he had gained wisdom over his lifetime. There were memories stored in that old head, and each one held within it a lesson learned. Experience is the greatest teacher, and the effort had not been wasted on Shadow. That wisdom came at a terrible cost, however. Shadow knew better than any what was out there, waiting in the woods.

His sixth sense told him. Even as he lacked a name for it, he knew its scent, its face. He knew its strength, its speed, its natural weaponry. His knowledge was more than just a feeling. The picture of the creature in his head was enough to send shudders down his spine. And it wasn't just mindless, either. It possessed cunning, perhaps surpassing his own.


	5. Chapter 5

Shadow rose from the porch and barked to be let in. He used to scratch, but it had come to be that his bad leg hurt when he tried to use it for that, and was unable to hold his weight so that he might use the other leg. And so he had taken to barking.

Aunt Tracy opened the door for him. Shadow looked up at her, hesitating to step through. He wasn't sure what it was that was bothering him. He knew Tracy and liked her. She looked a lot like Laura, her sister. Maybe it was just because she was another unusual thing in his universe. After all, she didn't live here. Shadow shook himself and walked through the door.

Tracy was barefoot now, and it looked like she had recently painted her toenails. She and Hope frequently did that when she stayed over. Mom and Dad weren't much for that sort of thing, especially as Hope was just a child. The smell of polish was very strong, just barely dry.

Shadow shied away from it, and went about his business. He traipsed into the kitchen and drank from the water bowl there, then paced into the living room, where he found Sassy napping on the couch. He found Chance upstairs, lying near Jamie, who was busily drawing something while Uncle Jim looked on. Peter was in his own room, reading a book. And Hope was, sure enough sitting on her bed admiring the bright polish on her toes. Tracy had gone upstairs before Shadow and was sitting with Hope and talking to her.

Shadow walked up and down the hall for a time, before something struck him. He turned towards the guest bedroom. The door was closed, and latched. Small obstacle for a dog such as Shadow. He took the knob precisely in his mouth and rotated his head to the side, stepping forward and pushing the door in as he did so. He released the knob and shoved the door the rest of the way open with his nose.

He padded into the room and took stock of the open travel bags on the floor, the slippers on either side of the guest bed. He wasn't sure what he was looking for. He'd know it when he found it, he had confidence in that fact.

He snuffled through the bags, finding little out of the ordinary. Then he examined the slippers, which smelled of Jim and Tracy's house, just like the bags did. The bed smelled like the two of them, but that was to be expected, just like the rest of it.

Shadow was about to give up on the notion when he chanced to walk past Tracy's tennis shoes, which were lying in the middle of the floor. Something was... off about them. The bottom of each shoe was dirty, not a surprise. Tracy often went jogging in the morning, even when she was staying over here, using the human paths through the woods. But there was something else... something...

Shadow leaped back with a shocked growl, bumbling into the foot of the bed as a result. His claws slipped and he fell into a sit on his left hip. But in all that, he didn't take his eyes off the shoes, and the snarl didn't leave his face. He sat still for a minute, thinking, staring at the shoes, snarling at them as if they were living things. Then he got up, went over to them and proceeded to do something which he had not, in his blameless life, ever done.

He overturned one of the shoes with his snout, and then lay down. Pinning the object with a paw, he began to gnaw on the heel of the shoe. Slowly, but steadily, his age-worn teeth ground into the rubber heel of the shoe as they might into a bone.

He kept at it for a few minutes then suddenly dropped the shoe and stood up, as though abruptly realizing the crime he was committing. He nudged the shoe upright with his nose, as though attempting to conceal his sin. And then he left the room, walking as only a guilt wracked dog can, his head seemingly weighed down by his conscience.

The truest sign of an honest dog is that he has done wrong, and knows it, and makes no attempt to hide his guilt. If his wrong is discovered, the honest dog will not hide or cower, but come unbidden and hang his head, standing before his master abashed and heartsick at the pain he has inflicted on his beloved human by his own action.

Shadow knew the penalty for breaking the rules of the house as well as any dog can. He knew he might find himself banished to the outdoors. That he would lose the privilege of roaming the house freely. But, most of all, he knew that Peter would be disappointed in him.

Guiltily, the old dog walked into Peter's room. He paused in the doorway when Peter looked up from his book. Shadow averted his eyes and walked to the side of the bed, where he lay down with a heavy sigh and waited for Peter to ask him what he'd done, to go looking for the damage he'd inflicted.

But Peter didn't see the guilt in the dog's eyes. He mistakenly thought it was another sign of illness. Shadow wasn't eating, he wasn't playing, he wasn't sleeping at the foot of Peter's bed where he belonged, and now he seemed to be having trouble moving at all.

Something was wrong with his dog, and it seemed to have happened too suddenly to be just another side effect of the dog's age. He resolved to tell his parents about it when he called them this evening, and then convince them to take the dog to the vet when they got back on Monday.

When Peter didn't accuse him of anything, Shadow felt even worse. He felt as though he were deliberately deceiving his boy, pretending he was a good dog when he really wasn't. He lay there feeling miserably unhappy for a long time. Eventually, however, he fell asleep.

But his dreams were not the peaceful dreams he normally had. They were dark and frightening, though he wasn't sure why. They were dreams of darkness, of blood, of death. Sometimes he was running through the forest, hunger growling in his belly as he sought prey. Other times, he was fleeing as fast as his legs could carry him, leaping fallen logs and boulders, jumping fences towards the sky, never gaining any distance between himself and what chased him. He didn't know what it was, but he could feel its rancid breath hot on his hindquarters, hear its deathless scream as it bayed at the moon. In still other dreams, he was hiding, lying in wait for he knew not what. Death clung to every dream, nameless terror whose shape and form were indistinct, yet no less hideous and harrowing for it.

Shadow awoke feeling more distressed than before. At first, he wasn't sure what had woken him. But then he realized it was someone yelling. At first he was confused, then he realized it was Tracy, shouting from her bedroom.

"Chance!. What have you done!,"

Shadow got up and peered through the doorway. Chance, bewildered by the angry tone of Tracy's voice, was slinking up the stairs. He hesitated at the top of the stairs, and made as if to go back down.

"CHANCE!," the sharp voice halted him and he crept down the hall.

It was one thing to be caught doing something wrong, but Chance had no idea why he was being yelled at. Tail tucked submissively, he went into the guest bedroom. Shadow followed and watched the scene play out. Chance crouched before Tracy, looking up to her and wagging his tucked tail appeasingly.

"Did you chew these shoes?," Tracy waved the incriminating tennis shoe in the dog's face.

Chance's eyes widened. Maybe a human didn't know one bite from another, but Chance couldn't have mistaken the tell-tale scent of Shadow and shape of his tooth marks if he'd tried. He looked over his shoulder at Shadow, who was gazing at him with his head down.

"DID you _chew_ these shoes!?," Tracy repeated fiercely.

Chance looked back at her, then at the shoes, then at Shadow. Tracy mistook this action for guilt.

"BAD DOG!,"

Chance cringed at the hated words, and slowly lowered himself to the floor. He rolled over onto his back and waved his forepaws, attempting to distract Tracy from the matter. He knew what he was supposed to have done, but he hadn't done it, and wasn't about to accept punishment if he could get out of it. So he tried the "cute" look.

"OUT!," Tracy ordered, pointing her finger.

Chance slunk from the room, pausing at the door to look over his shoulder balefully. Tracy shoved him on with her foot and repeated the word "out". Chance did as she ordered, slithering down the stairs as if his body were made of jelly, creeping to the door and waiting for Tracy to get there and open it.

Resentfully, he looked up the stairs where Shadow was watching. Then he oozed out the door, which slammed behind him. He was hurt that he'd been punished for something he hadn't done, and angry that Shadow had allowed it to happen. Shadow was the guilty one, not him. He should have admitted to it.

Tracy, meanwhile, was showing the damaged shoe to Jim.

"He didn't do much damage this time, I can still use them," she was saying "but I think we'll have to keep that room locked from now on when we visit. That dog has destroyed more clothes...," she trailed off, shaking her head.

She didn't notice the guilty look in Shadow's eyes when she passed him on the stairs. The old dog lay miserably at the head of the stairs, shudders running up and down his spine. _He_ was the bad dog, not Chance. But he had no choice. It had to be Chance, not him. He couldn't run like Chance could.

But he had to let Chance know what was going on. To that end, he sought out Sassy, who could get in and out by using Hope's window, which was always left open enough that the cat could slip out onto the roof, hop to a nearby tree branch and then climb down. More often, she used this to get into the house if she stayed out late at night.

Shadow would now employ her to let Chance know what was expected of him. He only hoped that it would work out like he'd planned. Otherwise, they were all in trouble. This plan of his could all too easily be the end of Chance.


	6. Chapter 6

"Shadow wants me to do what now?," Chance yelped in protest.

"You heard me," Sassy told him.

"Well he could have at least told me," Chance mumbled sulkily.

"He said this was plan B, Chance," Sassy flipped her tail irritably "it's not his fault you're known for being destructive,"

"Yeah well...," Chance trailed off, dropping his head onto his paws.

They sat in uncomfortable silence for a bit, before Sassy got up and made as if to go back in the house. Then she suddenly stopped and looked over her shoulder at Chance.

"You will be alright, won't you?,"

"Who me?," Chance got to his feet and tried to look big and intimidating "I'm not afraid of anything. I can take care of myself,"

Sassy flipped her tail and hopped onto the porch railing and from there to a tree trunk. A few seconds later, she disappeared onto the roof and was gone.

"Yeah... sure I can,"

He lay down on the porch. In the nearby woods, there were some birds singing. On their way to migrating further south, and with no idea what stalked the forest by night. For once, the rustling of unseen animals did nothing to arouse in Chance the desire to run and chase. A rope toy out on the lawn didn't attract his attention, passing cars didn't bring out of him the wild desire to unleash a volley of barking. For once, it all seemed trivial. Like it didn't matter.

The wind in the trees whispered of the night to come, the indescribable horror of the creature who owned the darkness from the shadows. The sun seemed farther away than usual, its light was pale and brought little warmth. The ground was hard, nearly frozen, and all the world seemed just as cold and lifeless. As if the vile presence of the thing in the woods was sucking the life blood from everything, and not just the animals it had caught and torn open.

Chance was jerked roughly from his worried thoughts by the sound of the mail truck stopping in front of their house. Perhaps the toy could go unchewed and the woods unexplored, but Chance could not leave the mailman alone. It was his sacred duty as a watch dog to bark at and terrorize the mailman. Or at the very least, molest him until he sacrificed part of his lunch.

Chance leaped to his feet and galloped around the house. He was halfway up the drive when he suddenly stopped short. Dropping his head, he sniffed at the man leaning out of the truck to put the mail in the box. A low growl rose in the dog's throat. He'd never threatened a human before, not really. But this wasn't his mailman. And, right now, the dog was taking anything and everything out of the ordinary as a grave threat to the security of his home.

"Easy, big fella," the mailman said, his hand halfway to the box "just delivering the mail. Easy now,"

But Chance wasn't about to take it easy. He leaped towards the truck with an imperious bark, legs stiff in front of him and lips curled back to show his teeth. Like most mail trucks, this one was open at the sides, with nothing to prevent Chance from jumping right in. So the mailman did the only thing he could think of. He put the truck in gear and floored it.

The wheels screeched and smoked, and the little truck bounced violently, hopping forward just as Chance reached it. Chance hit the ground on all fours, slipping only a little as he turned to pursue what had suddenly become his hated enemy – the mail truck.

"Chance!. Chance, get back here!," Peter, having heard the commotion, ran out front.

But Chance either didn't hear, or refused to obey. Shadow, having come out with Peter, moaned quietly. Squaring his shoulders and taking a deep breath, the old dog climbed down from the porch and took off after Chance at a ground-covering but relatively easy lope. He knew Chance couldn't chase the truck far at high speed. He'd catch up in good time, and bring the young dog back.

The mail truck, with the dog in hot pursuit, had made it almost to the end of the block before Shadow was in earshot. At this point, he began to bark. Chance heard, and listened. At the old dog's behest, he slowed and eventually stopped, then turned back towards home with head and tail down. Shadow continued after the mail truck, coming to stand in front of it, thereby forcing the driver to stop.

Shadow wagged his tail and barked in a friendly way and then, after the mailman had looked around and realized he was no longer being pursued, set off for home at his slow trot.

"You realize the mailman comes everyday, don't you?," Shadow asked Chance once they were back at home "and that our family is fully aware of it?,"

"Yeah, but that wasn't our mailman," Chance protested.

"Of course it wasn't," Shadow told him "our mailman is up a tree. He's dead, Chance,"

"You mean... you mean... yow!," Chance spun himself in a circle "you coulda told me that was a person... a.. a _human being_ up there in the tree!,"

"Would it have made a difference?," Shadow asked.

Chance didn't reply, but his face took on a sheepish expression. Even if he'd known the regular mailman wasn't coming, he still probably would have chased the new one without thinking.

"Wait... why is _our_ mailman dead?. I mean... they don't deliver mail at night, do they?,"

"No," Shadow replied "he wasn't killed last night. Whatever it was that got him, it got him in the middle of the afternoon, probably close to the end of his route,"

"Mailmen have routes?," Chance wondered, but then refocused on the real issue "so this thing isn't confined to nights and mornings... it's hunting during broad daylight too?,"

"I told you, it's not an animal. It doesn't hunt by our rules," Shadow said almost sternly "or any rules,"

"Then why are we worried about night falling?,"

"It's more dangerous at night," Shadow told him "it's stronger at night. A lot stronger,"

"How do you know all this stuff?,"

"The same way I know I'm a dog," the reply was cryptic to Chance, but he knew Shadow wasn't going to elaborate on that, at least not right now.

"Shadow, come on, boy!," Peter called from the porch.

Obediently, the old dog turned from Chance and trotted to his boy and then went inside. Chance didn't try to follow. He had virtually forgotten that, as far as the humans were concerned, he was out here being punished. He had bigger things to worry about. Specifically, the coming night.

To calm his nerves, Chance went and found one of his favorite bones, which he'd buried in the sandbox not long ago. He dug it up and settled in to chew on it. Chewing always made him feel better. Sometimes he could chew until he fell asleep. But not today. Today even chewing didn't make the tense feeling leave, it didn't let his mind relax, or lull him into a sleepy state.

He chewed on the bone vigorously, time and again scraping his back teeth against the unyielding material, biting down hard, trying in vain to crack it. And all the while he kept his eyes glued to the forest, and now and then he had to pause and let the shudders take hold of him and run their course before he started chewing again.

The creature was no longer a potential threat to his family. It had killed a person. That was different from a cat or a dog, or a chicken or a rabbit. That was serious. Most predators had a preferred prey. Just because they hunted sheep, it didn't necessarily mean they were a man killer as well. But this one was.

It would kill anything, including the Seaver family, given half a chance. And the humans were, as usual, completely and totally oblivious.

As usual, it was up to the animals to solve problems the people didn't even know existed. To protect the property from threats human beings seemed unable to comprehend. It was better that way. It was what made dogs dogs and people people. That basic difference in their awareness and understanding of the world. Chance knew that. Shadow had taught him that. Dogs didn't ask to be dogs, but dogs they were nonetheless. And being a dog came with certain responsibilities. This was one such responsibility.

And no amount of bone chewing would get him out of it. No amount of pacing would make what he had to do any easier. In spite of the danger, he didn't resent it. He didn't wish Shadow were in his place. In fact, he was almost looking forward to the coming night, with a sort of eager apprehension.

For tonight he was staying outside, not because he was being punished for that which he did not do. Tonight, he was staying out because Shadow had a plan. Tonight, Chance was going to find the creature, and follow it. Tonight, he was going to find out exactly what it was that was lurking in the dark, and he was going to follow it to its lair. And in the morning, he and Shadow were going to do whatever they had to in order to get rid of their unwanted neighbor.

They would either drive it away, or kill it. Whichever was easier.

* * *

At dusk, Chance left the porch and went to his dog house. He knew that wouldn't be much in the way of protection, but at least he wouldn't be out in the open. He didn't know why he felt safer in his dog house, but he did. In truth, it was because nothing could come at him from above or behind or either side. Whatever came, it would have to rush him straight on. He'd see it coming.

He stood for awhile, looking out at the darkening yard, gazing warily at the black forest beyond. Overhead, the sky turned first gray, then indigo, and the moon shone brilliantly down, casting a silver hue on the world far below.

When everything stayed quiet, Chance sat, and then eventually lay down. But he didn't sleep. He stayed on the alert, tense and vigilant. The moon crept higher into the sky, a few scattered black clouds scooting past it, as though afraid to get in its way for very long. The wind had picked up, and the soft whisper had become a sharp whistling through the ancient trees.

It was going to be a very long night.

The night grew deeper and ever more still save for the harshly blowing wind, which whistled and made the trees groan. But Chance held himself rigidly awake, resisting even the urge to yawn for fear of the noise he might make. He kept his eyes on the woods.

As it turned out, this was a mistake.


	7. Chapter 7

To this point, Chance had assumed the creature dwelt in the woods, like any wild thing. And so, he'd been at the back of the house, facing away from it and also away from the road. He didn't expect trouble to come from that side. That is, until he heard a sound at the front door.

A scratching, as of a dog asking to get out or come in. This was accompanied by a snuffling. Chance got to his feet, an uneasy growl in his throat. He wondered if he should go investigate. On the one hand, it was safer here. On the other hand, this was exactly why he was outside in the first place.

He stepped out of his house, into the pale moonlight. Cautiously, he made his way around the house, stopping every few steps to listen and scent the air. The thing was definitely nearby, and the scratching at the door was continuing. Chance was almost around front when an ominous clicking noise ahead told him that the door had been unlatched.

Suddenly frantic, he threw caution to the wind and launched himself around the corner, barking ferociously. The thing was getting in the house!.

His eyes locked on a massive shadowy form on the porch. A slitted pair of luminous yellow eyes glared at him. A puff of white exploded outward from a point beyond those eyes as the creature exhaled. It turned away from Chance, toward the house. The door was hanging wide open.

The creature was still standing as though undecided by the time Chance reach the porch. But in the time it took him to leap onto the porch, it vanished from sight, into the house. But it was not there for very long. Even as Chance slid to a halt to try and spot the creature in the darkness of the house, there came from inside an ear-splitting roar, echoed by furious snarling.

There was a breath of silence, and then a deafening crash, followed by more snarling. Chance bobbed his head, trying to see in the dark, to get an idea of what was happening in the house. But he couldn't see, and dared not enter when the creature could be right next to the door, waiting to take his head off the moment he stepped across the threshold.

The shattering of glass around back made Chance whirl and race to the other side of the house to investigate. As he did so, the lights went on upstairs and there was the sound of feet running downstairs, along with lots of shouting.

The change of light blinded the dog as he careened around the corner. He slid and struck against something, which instantly lashed out at him, cutting a slash down his side. He yelped, lost his balance and fell onto his back. More barking, more snarling, and then the sound of something large and heavy running away.

Chance raised his head just in time to glimpse the creature as it paused at the edge of the yard and looked malevolently over its shoulder. It stood leaned forward on two legs, about eight feet high, bristling dark hair silver-tipped by the moon's light. It would have looked almost human aside from that, except for the glowing eyes and bulky misshapen head that was just above its broad shoulders. And then it was gone.

Painfully, Chance rolled onto his belly and got to his feet, unable to hold back a whimper as he did so. A short distance away, he noticed a shaggy lump lying motionless on the lawn. Beneath the blood, he recognized the soft reddish gold of Shadow's fur.

"Oh no!. No, no, no, no!," He ran over to where Shadow lay, praying the old dog wasn't badly hurt.

Sniffing at his friend, he was relieved to find the old dog still breathing. A moment later, Shadow opened his eyes and rolled onto his belly slowly. The blood had come from a deep tear in his right shoulder and a slash across the opposite side of his neck.

"Are you alright?. I'm sorry, I should have been watching, are you alright?. You okay?. You're gonna be okay, right?. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I should-,"

"Chance," Shadow interrupted wearily "shut up,"

"No!," Peter shouted from the back porch, then called to those in the house "come help me, Chance is attacking Shadow!,"

The two dogs understood a handful of the words Peter said, but all they could make of it was that they must be supposed to come. Looking towards the house, they were forced to assume they were being told "no!" because of the broken window or maybe the open door. They knew the house was supposed to be shut up at night. Beyond that, it was only given to them to understand that they were meant to come. Chance hesitated, waiting for Shadow to get heavily to his feet, and then pacing right beside the other dog as he limped slowly to the house.

"Chance!. Bad dog!," Jamie came out yelling.

Chance at once halted, and lowered himself shamefully to the ground. He'd failed to protect the house, and that definitely made him a bad dog. Seeking forgiveness, he crawled to Jamie and then rolled to expose his vulnerable belly, tail tucked between his legs.

"Bad Chance!," Jamie repeated vehemently.

Chance rolled onto his belly and crept to the dog house, looking over his shoulder only once. He knew a bad dog was banished from the house, banished from the affection of his family, the security and comfort of the indoors. He did not argue.

When Jamie had run from the house, Shadow had also stopped in his tracks.

"Come, Shadow. Come here, boy," Peter called.

Shadow had no inkling that the humans believed Chance had assaulted him. All he knew was that he was as much to blame as Chance for what had happened, if not more so. He did not deserve to come in the house any more than Chance did. Peter was calling him. But he had acted inappropriately. For once in his life, he had done very wrong.

With a heartsick groan, the old dog sat down where he was and hung his head. He was hurting, and wanted nothing more than to seek forgiveness and healing from his beloved boy. But he knew that Chance was hurt too. His sense of loyalty bade him remain where he was.

"Come on, Shadow, come inside," Peter repeated.

Shadow whined, started to rise, and then stopped. He looked from Peter to where Chance had disappeared into his house. Jamie was standing nearby to intercept the bigger dog if he went after Shadow again. All Shadow could see was that the boys were outside, when they ought to be inside. Shadow and Chance belonged outside. They had done wrong, and they must remain on their guard in case the creature returned. It had only been startled by all the lights and noise.

But it would be back. Maybe in a few minutes, maybe not until tomorrow night. But it would return, of that there could be no doubt whatsoever.

Shadow slowly stood up, and turned towards the dog house to go and join Chance.

"Shadow, no. Come here," Peter called desperately, thinking Shadow was going to try and defend his place at the top of the animal pecking order "you can't win a fight with him. Come here,"

Shadow stopped at the word "no". But he did not come. He could not.

The retriever stood uncertainly halfway between the back porch and the dog house, his head and tail down, mouth open and tongue hanging out in stressed panting. He looked over at Peter, then at the dog house, then the broken window, and finally towards the woods. He kept looking from one to the other, trying to make Peter understand his part in the events, to understand that he too was a bad dog and should therefor remain outside.

Peter took a deep breath and his face assumed a stern expression. He didn't want to have a contest of wills with Shadow. The dog was old, and had been peacefully living by the rules for years. Peter couldn't remember when Shadow had last disobeyed. Possibly not since he was a pup.

"Shadow," Peter spoke in a command tone "come. Now,"

A shudder passed through the old dog. Reluctantly, he turned towards his boy. With heavy steps, he limped to the back porch. He halted at his boy's feet and dropped into a lying down position, refusing to seek the forgiveness which had been denied to Chance. If Chance did not deserve it, neither did he.

"Inside," Peter ordered, pointing.

Shadow flinched, but did not disobey. He lifted himself off the ground just enough to get his legs under him, and slunk into the house. He'd barely gotten across the threshold before he turned around to try and go back outside.

"No," Peter said, and the dog stopped "stay,"

After assuring himself that his dog did as commanded, Peter went out to help Jamie chain Chance up. They'd never chained their dogs before, so Peter had to find a chain and figure out how to secure it to something near the dog house.

But it was evident that Chance had somehow broken through the window and attacked Shadow. Peter had read that this sort of thing happened with bully breeds sometimes. It also sometimes happened that young dogs would turn on their elders to try and gain a higher position in the pack. He'd never expected it of Chance, but that was clearly what had happened.

Or maybe Chance had just been trying to get inside and Shadow, knowing Chance was supposed to be outside, had tried to drive him back out. In any case, Chance would have to stay out here, tied up, until Mom and Dad got home and sorted this mess out.

"Chance, sit," Jamie commanded.

Chance sat, and Peter attached the chain to his collar. In spite of the fact that he was in trouble, Jamie still rewarded his dog for sitting on command. As he ran his hand down the dog's side in silent praise, he found the gash which started just behind Chance' shoulder and ran almost all the way down his side.

"Chance is hurt," Jamie said quietly.

"We'll look at him in the morning, when it's light out," Peter said "come on, let's go back in the house,"

Jamie frowned, reluctant to leave his injured pet. But he finally sighed, patted Chance on the head and followed his brother into the house, where Shadow was waiting.

Before releasing Shadow from 'stay', Peter put his leash on, fearing that the dog would jump out the broken window. Another fight with Chance would surely finish him. And Peter didn't want his dog to go out that way. Shadow deserved to live to a ripe old age, and die peacefully in his sleep, not be mauled to death by the dog who, until recently, had been his friend.

"Get the first aid kit," Peter told his brother "bring it to the kitchen, the light's better in there. And go get Uncle Jim and Aunt Tracy too,"

As his brother set off to do all that, Peter bade his dog follow him into the kitchen. Shadow trailed behind his boy, head down and heart-sore. He didn't understand why he was being brought in the house. Was it to be his punishment to not be punished?. That didn't make any kind of sense at all. Least of all the human kind of sense.

"You're gonna be fine, Shadow," Peter told him, thinking his dog's behavior was due to pain "we'll fix you up, good as new. It's just some scratches, you'll be fine... just... fine,"

There was a tremor in his boy's voice. Shadow looked up and saw tears in Peter's eyes. Whining, he crept to his boy and leaned against Peter's leg. He licked Peter's hands, and tried his best to make his boy feel better. Whatever he may have done wrong tonight, he wasn't about to forget his duty to comfort Peter when he was sad. That would only make all the rest of it that much worse and more unforgivable.

Meanwhile, Chance was lying outside in his dog house. He knew he'd been bad, and knew that he could not be permitted in the house. But why was he chained up?. Now he couldn't get away if the creature came back. Nor could he get to the either of the doors to the house. He could not defend his home, or himself. Was his punishment to be getting eaten?.

He couldn't believe that. Perhaps he deserved that. But surely Jamie wasn't that harsh. No, Jamie was a good kid, a loving, sweet kid. He wouldn't abandon Chance, not like this. It was only then that it finally dawned on Chance what had happened.

He remembered when he had once tried to alert Shadow to the presence of a cougar. Unable to see it, Shadow had not believed it was really there. Neither Peter nor Jamie had seen the creature. They didn't believe it existed. They thought Chance had attacked Shadow, and broken the window. And opened the door, which was fully impossible because the door had been locked.

But wait... if the door had been locked...

How had the creature gotten in?.


	8. Chapter 8

**SUNDAY**

The next morning, Shadow pushed his way out of Peter's room before anyone else was up. It was hard to move, but he was determined. The stairs, which had never seemed much of an obstacle before, now seemed nearly insurmountable. He took the steps one at a time, stopping for breath about halfway down before taking the last of them at a limping crawl.

The glass from the broken window was still everywhere, and Shadow tread very carefully on his way to the sill. He climbed out, landing heavily on his left foreleg. It was weak, and he rolled onto his uninjured shoulder. He quickly got to his feet and went about the business he'd come outside for.

"Shadow?. Is that you?," Chance stuck his head out of the dog house "what are you doing out here?,"

"Same as you," Shadow replied in a soothing voice "now be quiet or you'll wake the kids and Sassy,"

"Not to mention Jim and Tracy," Chance muttered, sitting down.

"You can't wake up someone who isn't asleep, Chance," Shadow retorted.

Chance fell silent for a moment, puzzling over this. Shadow, meanwhile, followed the trail the creature had left the night before, sniffing at it as though he hadn't been there last night, as if the information of the trail was wholly new to him.

"I would have noticed if Tracy went jogging," Chance said finally.

"She didn't go jogging," Shadow threw over his shoulder "can you see the tracks from where you are?,"

Chance got up and walked stiffly from the dog house. He paused to stretch, then dragged to the end of his chain, straining to see what it was Shadow wanted him to look at.

"No," Chance sighed finally "all I can see are shoe prints,"

"Yes, Chance. Just shoe prints," Shadow woofed approvingly "but what about them?,"

"Well...," Chance paused uncertainly "that one looks... um...," he swallowed hard "chewed,"

"Exactly," Shadow wagged his tail, seeming mysteriously pleased.

"You chewed Tracy's shoe yesterday," Chance observed, before it finally dawned on him "Tracy wasn't out here last night. She hasn't been outside since she sent me out, and she wasn't wearing her shoes then. Are you saying... that... that,"

"Yes. Tracy is our killer," Shadow confirmed.

"But the glowy eyes, and the teeth and the claws and the scent and... and... and... the roaring!. That wasn't a human that attacked us last night,"

"No," Shadow said "but now I'm sure of who it is,"

"Who what is?,"

"The Evening Wolf,"

"That was _not_ a wolf,"

"You don't even know what a wolf is," Shadow pointed out.

"Maybe not, but a wolf is an animal, right?. And that thing wasn't an animal, you said it yourself,"

"And neither is the Evening Wolf," Shadow explained "the Evening Wolf isn't a wolf at all. Do you know what a mutt is, Chance?,"

"Sure, it's a dog that isn't purebred... isn't it?,"

"The Evening Wolf is like that, to put it in simple terms,"

"Simple is good," Chance said "I like simple,"

"Only instead of being a mix of two breeds," Shadow went on as if Chance hadn't interrupted "the Evening Wolf is a mix of two species. It is a thing which has no place in nature, which defies all of the Natural Laws, as well as the rules of humankind. It's an abomination,"

"A bomb... what now?,"

"A very bad thing," Shadow rephrased.

"What's that got to do with Tracy?. She's human, at least she was last I checked,"

"The Evening Wolf is unlike anything else. It changes its scent and shape, at will,"

"But Tracy's nice to us, the thing wants to kill us," Chance protested.

"That's because the Evening Wolf is of two kinds. One is human, the other wolfen. When the two collide, that is when you have your killer,"

"I don't get it," Chance sighed.

"You will, one day," Shadow told him "it is given to every dog to understand the dangers lurking in the dark, so that they may protect their humans from harm. But it's something that takes time to discover,"

"So what do we do?,"

"I already told you," Shadow said "we have to protect the family, at any cost. Now we know the Evening Wolf by name, and know that it cannot be driven away. So we'll have to kill it,"

"Kill?. But... but... but that's Tracy!. She's... family," Chance yelped in protest.

"Not anymore. The Evening Wolf must not be allowed to survive to nightfall,"

"What?. Why not?,"

"Because tonight's a full moon," Shadow replied.

"So?,"

"The Evening Wolf will be stronger than ever before. All traces of humanity, and wolf, will be wiped away, along with any thought or emotion the Evening Wolf might be capable of. All except for blood lust, the desire to kill. Especially to kill things which remind it of what it once was,"

"Human," Chance guessed.

"Yes,"

"Can't we do anything to save her?. Anything at all?,"

"I'm afraid not," Shadow replied "but it's worse than that,"

"Worse?. How could anything be worse?,"

"Jim wasn't here last night. Still isn't. He knows what Tracy is. He's a fool if he thinks he can hide what she's become forever. A bigger fool if he thinks he's safe from her. She'll kill him too, given the chance. It's only a matter of time,"

"Shadow!. Shadow!," Peter's voice came from inside the house "where are you, boy?. Shadow!,"

Shadow barked and made his slow and painful way to the back porch. It seemed to Chance that he was struggling to get up the stairs, but trying not to show it. Shadow might not be saying it, but he'd taken a beating last night, and some of his wounds didn't show on the surface.

"Shadow, you shouldn't be outside, boy," Peter told the old dog, after opening the door.

Chance returned to the dog house and lay down. A short time later, he saw Uncle Jim and Aunt Tracy emerging from the woods. He stood up stiffly and growled. Halfway out of the dog house, he halted. They didn't know that he knew. Now wasn't the time. Not while he was tied up and Shadow was inside. It would take both of them together, that much he knew from the experience last night. And not bumbling around, either. They had to work together.

He stayed where he was, staring warily at the approaching people as if they were strangers to him. They walked right past without noticing him and went into the house.

"What happened to the window?," Tracy asked Hope.

"Chance broke it," Hope replied, not looking up from dishing out Sassy's breakfast "Jamie tried to wake you last night, but you wouldn't wake up and your door was locked,"

"Oh, that's because Chance got in yesterday and chewed one of my shoes," Tracy said "I'm sorry, dear. What happened?,"

"Chance attacked Shadow," Peter said, breaking into the conversation "he's tied up outside now. I think we need to take Shadow to the vet," he glanced down, where Shadow was walking at an obedient 'heel' "I think he could be really hurt,"

"The vet's closed on the weekend," Jim said "but they'll be open on Monday, when your parents get home. You can take him then. Until then, you should probably keep him inside as much as possible, and keep him still. And definitely keep Chance tied up so he can't cause anymore trouble,"

He knelt down and called Shadow over. At encouragement from Peter, Shadow went to him. But where he would once have wagged his tail at sight of this long-familiar family member, he now kept his tail lowered and there was no show of friendliness in his eyes.

"You know, don't ya, boy?," Jim whispered to the dog, too quietly for anyone else to hear "you saw it, didn't you?. And now you know there's nothing you can do about it,"

Strangely, Shadow understood every word. Maybe it was the eye contact, or the clear guilt written on the man's face. For whatever reason, Shadow knew exactly what he'd said. His response was plain in the slight curl of his lip, which showed the barest tips of his fangs.

"There's no reason to be like that," Tracy said, kneeling down beside Jim.

The kids were oblivious, going about their morning routine as always.

"Why protect something that isn't your own kind?," Tracy asked "why defend what is not yours?,"

In response, Shadow's lip curled further, showing more of his teeth. He began to struggle in Jim's grip, not violently, but insistently. Jim held him fast. He not only understood the words Tracy spoke as though they were said in his own tongue, he could read their undertones. The meaning behind them.

"You're no fool, Shadow," Tracy went on "I know you, I've seen that brain working behind your eyes. You're not just any dog. You know more than most. And you know that there's nothing you can do to stop the coming of the moon. Fall under its sway. Let yourself go. I can show you pleasures you've never dreamed of, freedom you've never known,"

Shadow barked and lunged back, breaking loose. Face still twisted into a furious snarl, the old dog backed away until he was under the dining room table, where he remained, fur bristling, eyes bright and curved fangs showing to their yellowed roots.

"What was that?," Peter asked, coming in from the kitchen "I thought I heard Shadow bark,"

"Oh, he just wanted me to let him out," Jim said "he barked when I wouldn't open the door for him,"

Shadow, having recovered himself, walked dutifully to Peter's side, positioning his body protectively between the boy and the invaders of his home. He didn't snarl at them again, showed no outward signs of aggression. But he stared up at them, not looking away when they stared back.

He saw in their eyes declaration of war. And they saw in his acceptance of that. Tracy looked at him, mildly surprised to see no hesitance in his steady gaze. There was something almost eager about him. As if he'd learned nothing the night before, had no idea that he stood no chance.

Sassy, meanwhile, had finished up her breakfast and scooted outside. She didn't intend to be left out of the action. If the battle was to be waged in her own living room, she had every intention of being a part of it. But she knew who the muscle in the fight would be.

"Sassy, what are you doing out here?," Chance asked, looking up as the cat jumped down from the porch railing onto the roof of his dog house.

"Shadow filled me in," Sassy replied.

"So you should really be in the house," Chance said "knowing what's in there. With Hope. And Jamie,"

"Shadow's keeping an eye on them. He says that we've got time," Sassy told him "now hold still and I'll see what I can do about your situation,"

Cooperatively, Chance lay down and held still while the talented cat grabbed, clawed, chewed and pawed at his collar and the head of the chain. Anyone who says there's nothing more stubborn than a bulldog has never witnessed the persistence of a determined cat.

Sassy soon abandoned work on the head of the chain, focusing her energies on the collar buckle. It was a heavy leather thing, easy to work for a human perhaps, but not so for an animal lacking in opposable thumbs. But Sassy would not be easily discouraged.

She was briefly interrupted by Jamie bringing Chance's breakfast to him. Jim came out too, and they looked over the cut on Chance's side. They cleaned it and doctored it up, while Sassy looked down from the roof. She wasn't concerned about being noticed, as she had nothing to hide. However, she couldn't be caught in the act of trying to untie Chance.

Once Jamie and Uncle Jim went back in the house, she climbed back down and set to work with more enthusiasm than before. For a time she made little progress, as Chance gulped down his breakfast. But then the big dog settled onto his side and let her work in peace.


	9. Chapter 9

Shadow spent the morning following Tracy around the house. He knew better than to pick a fight with her here and now. He'd felt the strength of the Evening Wolf the night before, and knew that strength wasn't entirely gone, just because its face and scent were now human. If it came to that, he would fight alone, knowing that he stood no chance. But he would prefer it not happen that way.

And too, there was another reason. Shadow had never set his teeth against any invited house guest. He'd never so much as growled. Not in years. He knew the rules of the house. The dog who growled at guests was the dog who was taken outside. The dog who bit a guest was sent away. It hadn't happened to any dog Shadow knew, but he knew that humans did not tolerate a dog who bit guests.

To go after Tracy, knowing she was an invited guest, a member of the family even, was a crime beyond any Shadow had ever considered. It was a rule which even Chance would not think of breaking. And yet, break it they must. Even if they were called bad dogs, sent away to the pound never to return, they still had to do it. But maybe, just maybe, Chance's crime might be lessened, if he was not the one who struck the final blow. If Shadow was the one who finished it, Chance might still be redeemed in the eyes of his family. But how to do it?.

In his head, Shadow was working out all the angles, all the possibilities. Everywhere the fight could take place. Each and every move they could make, and that the creature was likely to make. Outside, upstairs, downstairs, in the woods. The creature attacking them first, or them going on the offensive before it could.

Now and then, he caught it looking at him from behind Tracy's eyes. Darkly malicious, eager for blood, biding its time, waiting... waiting for what?. Moonrise.

Shadow felt the hair on his neck stand on end as he realized that moonrise would come long before sunset. They didn't have until nightfall. They had hours, at most. And then it would begin.

Now he knew why Tracy was bursting with confidence. She knew Shadow didn't have time to make a proper plan. Knew also that Chance was tied up, and would remain so for some time to come. It was just her and Shadow. If she took him out, then Chance would be an easy mark. But would Sassy figure out the collar in time?. It was a heavy, stiff material, designed specifically to keep a dog from pawing it off. If the Evening Wolf hit its full strength, even two dogs wouldn't be enough.

Shadow had to do something. He wasn't strong enough on his own to win a fight with Tracy. Not even now. He could sense that. But Tracy wasn't making her move yet. Was it because she still had an ounce of sanity somewhere in that crumbling mind?. Or was it because she was afraid of the damage the old dog might inflict while she was weak?. That was far more likely.

Had she not pulled back when he barked at her?. Had she not left him alone while he was under the table?. Was it not now he who was following her, instead of the other way around?.

He couldn't win a fight. But he could surely do enough damage to make it difficult, or impossible to kill Chance later on. Shadow was a threat. Tracy might not be afraid of him, but her survival instinct meant she wasn't fool enough to pick a fight with him right now. She had all the time in the world.

And she was counting on Shadow's waiting. She was relying on his pack instinct to keep him at bay until reinforcements arrived. It's what almost any dog would do.

The Evening Wolf would to anything to safe guard its own survival, no matter what form it was in. It expected Shadow to do the same. Most dogs might. But Tracy had not been wrong when she said that Shadow wasn't most dogs.

Now was not the time to plan. It was time to act. If he delayed, even for a few minutes, Tracy might pick up on the change in his demeanor. If she was aware of what he knew, she might do something to protect herself, to insure that he never got a shot at her.

They were in the living room. Tracy was pretending to read a book, but kept looking over it at Shadow, who lay on the rug near the fireplace. The kids were playing a board game in the dining room. Jim, where was Jim?. Shadow lifted his head briefly and listened. Footsteps upstairs. Good.

Shadow didn't hesitate. He rose to his feet suddenly, tearing from the restraint which had kept him still and silent up to now. Golden Retrievers are not known for their ferocity, and there are even people in this world who believe them to be incapable of snarling. In its unexpectedness, the snarl of such a dog is truly one of the most terrible sights.

Tracy's counter measure when she saw the advancing fury was equally unexpected. She screamed. Shadow's response to this noise was to give voice. To growl. To bark-growl. And to lunge at her, snapping and pulling back before he got into her range.

A moment later, Shadow knew what the scream had been for.

Behind him, the kids started yelling and screaming. Above the clamor, he heard the voice of Peter, clear, horrified... disappointed "Shadow, no!". Shadow halted, and fell silent, but the snarl did not leave his face, nor did he turn towards his boy. He could not.

Tracy began to edge her way around the room towards the kids, Shadow turning with her, but momentarily held at bay by the voice of Peter. Every nerve in the great dog's body was against listening, every part of his brain told him that he couldn't afford to wait. But his heart, that part of him which belonged most wholly to the young boy, could not bear the feeling that had been in Peter's voice.

"Get back, kids," Tracy said as she reached them "get behind me,"

She had to know what this would do. Maybe she hoped to secure a position of power. There's no telling. But no good dog permits something he considers to be the enemy to get between himself and those whom he would give his life to protect.

Tracy had not taken more than one direct step towards the kids before the enraged retriever unleashed a savage sound more like a roar than anything and leaped at her, fangs bared. The kids screamed and fell back as the dog hit their aunt full in the chest and drove at her neck with snapping jaws.

"Upstairs, upstairs!," Peter shouted at his siblings "mom and dad's room!. Go, go!,"

He hesitated only a second. He couldn't think right now about what had become of his dog. He couldn't let himself realize that it must have been his dog who did the attacking last night. That it was his dog who had now gone mad. He couldn't think about that. He had to protect Hope and Jamie.

The master bedroom had a door with a lock but, more importantly, it also had a phone. But who do you call in a situation like this?. The police?. Could he call his parents?. No... animal control. That was right. By now he was running up the stairs after his siblings. He didn't let himself look back.

Tracy had hold of Shadow's ruff, and was managing to keep the big dog off her neck. The sharp canine teeth drove at her, but clicked together futilely on empty air. Then Shadow switched tactics. Turning his head, he closed his jaws firmly on one of the hands that held him back.

Tracy screamed, this time in real pain, where before it had been false fear, but she didn't let go. She drew up one of her legs and thrust her knee into the dog's ribs, forcing him off her so that she could get to her feet. Shadow slid helplessly across the wood floor, paws working in vain to get traction. But as soon as his motion was halted by the wall, the dog got to his feet and was again on the offensive.

A bulldog will find a place to bite and hold, refusing to let go even if he is beaten half to death. A German shepherd will use his own weight to drive his adversary to the ground before pinning it there. A collie will take a wolfish tactic, darting in and out, using his teeth to slash as he goes by, but always keeping out of his opponent's range. But a retriever is not bred to fight, to guard, or to herd. Retrievers by nature and design have a soft mouth, and are not fighters by blood. Like virtually any dog, they are more than a match for a human being if they put their mind to it. But this wasn't a human being. This was a creature every bit as dangerous and deadly as any predator of the wild. More even.

Shadow was at a severe disadvantage by more than just age. What made him different from virtually any other retriever was that he was aware of that fact. He knew that he lacked killer instincts. He had to work at it, to think about it. Thus, he had done so, turning weakness to advantage. His knowledge and understanding of cause and effect was on par with humans, maybe even beyond.

Where a lesser dog might have repeated the same tactic over and over until they succeeded or were killed, Shadow switched strategy mid-game. Tracy expected him to leap at her again, but this time he didn't. He ran straight for her. Instead of biting, he swung his shoulder as he swept past, striking her knee. The wood floor proved to be almost as treacherous for bare feet as paws.

As Shadow skittered and turned about to face Tracy, the latter wobbled, then fell to one knee to keep from falling down entirely. Shadow pushed off from the wall and leaped at the exposed back of his enemy, seeking to break her neck with one fatal bite.

But Tracy turned and struck out with an arm, catching the dog full in the chest, forcing his front paws off the floor and nearly flipping him. Even as she completed the motion, Shadow switched modes. His front paws, no longer useful for forward motion changed jobs. He wrapped them around her arm as he might a favorite chew toy, rotated his head and took her hand in his mouth.

"No!," Tracy realized, even in the split second, what was about to happen, but didn't have time to pull her hand free as the mighty jaws closed and the back teeth did exactly what they were designed to do- they cracked bone.

Tracy got to her feet, pulling the dog with her. Her free hand was changing now. The nails lengthened, turning black, the fingers became spindly like spider legs. The razor claws flashed towards the dog, aiming for his exposed belly. But Shadow saw it coming and let go, dropping to the floor. The claws caught the back of one of his forelegs, but that was all.

"Damn dog!," the shriek was barely recognizable as having come from a human.

Breathless, Shadow took a few steps back. Tracy stood before him, but she was changing even now, before moonrise. The tine-like fingers ended in sickle claws. The skin on her hands was turning gray, and black hair had begun to sprout on her arms. But most significant was her eyes. They were the same color as before, but the shape and dimension was changing. Becoming more animal. Her parted lips showed the tips of fangs not unlike those possessed by Shadow himself.

"Come on!," the challenge of the Evening Wolf roared through the air, vibrating the very doors and rattling the glass windows "finish it!,"

Willingly, the dog responded, raising his own voice to echo and accept the challenge. He leaped forward, one paw slipped slightly on his own blood and slowing his rush. That little slip, which he had anticipated but the Evening Wolf had not. It swung at where the dog would have been had he not been slowed down, but cut through empty air. Shadow leaped, and his teeth closed around the arm.

There was a roar, a flash of black claws. A yelp was followed by blood splashing across the floor and hitting the back of the flowered living room couch. The dog's teeth loosed their grip. Like a puppet whose strings have been cut, the old retriever slid to the floor.

Beyond the door, there came a wailing cry as the sounds were heard, processed and understood by Chance outside. The Evening Wolf, eyes glowing dully now, turned towards the door. Black lips peeled back from a hideous mouth in an expression that was half snarl and half deranged smile.

"You're next, puppy,"


	10. Chapter 10

"Shadow!. Shadow, no!," Chance cried out, lunging to the end of his chain.

Sassy's paw caught in his collar and she was dragged along with him. Startled out of her wits, the cat yowled and kicked out with her back feet. The effect of this was not only to free her, but to mostly undo the buckle of the collar. When Chance backed up to lunge again, the rest came undone and the collar fell to the dusty ground.

With a roar of unbridled rage, Chance bolted forward and heaved his massive bulk against the back door. It held, even against him. Remembering the broken window, he turned to go around, but never made it off the porch. The door cracked, then broke behind him, wood splinters flying outward. Leaping sideways, Chance landed on the ground several feet away, clear of the falling remains of the door. Trembling with shock, he looked past the doorway, into the house itself.

There, standing strangely beyond the threshold, looking alien and out of place, was the Evening Wolf. Yellow eyes glittering with rage, misshapen jaws parted to reveal a blood red mouth and uneven set of vicious looking teeth. It had torn from Tracy's clothing, revealing gray skin and broad muscular shoulders, unnaturally long forearms and a deep chest.

A roar burst forth from the monster's mouth, deafening Chance and seeming to blow away the very air, flattening out plants and trees. The windows, which had before rattled, now shattered, as though the glass itself was trying to escape the monster, as if even the nonliving feared it.

Chance lowered his body, shaking in the presence of the beast. The smell, both intoxicating and terrifying, drove virtually all thoughts from his mind. Those eyes... he couldn't even meet the ferocious gaze of the monster on his doorstep. But he didn't run. The one thing he couldn't do was run.

When the Evening Wolf's voice died away, Chance forced himself to stand up straight and walk stiff legged towards the creature, head down and tail up. This thing did not belong here. This was his home!. His family was in there!. This creature wasn't welcome. As the family dog, it fell to him to drive it away, or to kill it if he had to.

The Evening Wolf stepped out of the house, halting at the shadow on the porch, refusing to step into the pale sunlight. Or maybe it just didn't want to set foot outside of the house it was trying to claim as its own. Chance didn't care one way or the other.

He ran at his enemy in utter silence, leaping at the last, springing onto the porch, and then up towards the eight foot monster's face. It threw out its arms to block him, but he drove its defenses down with his front paws as he went for it. His teeth met just short of his mark, cutting flesh and fur, but not latching on. He fell, but kicked out with his back feet, hitting against the monster, thereby propelling himself beyond its range. Even as he did, he felt those sickle claws rake down his back and struggled to hold a yelp of pain inside, barely succeeding. He twisted, and landed on his feet facing the monster. Again the beast moved to the edge of the shadows, but came no farther, growling as though it were chained.

"What's the matter!?. What are you so afraid of?. It's just sunlight!. Get out here, you coward!," Chance taunted, barking loudly.

"I... don't... have to...," the creature hissed in a gravelly voice "I... have... nothing... to protect,"

It turned as if to go back in the house. Chance knew he had no choice but to fight it on its own terms. The beast was right. It was already inside, keeping Chance out. Chance was the only one who really had something at stake here. And so he ran at the beast again.

Faster than a heartbeat, it rounded on him, dropping to all fours. As he leaped for it, a clawed hand swiped at him, knocking him aside as if he were a small puppy. The force knocked him to the side and he went rolling several feet. He was as good as dead in that moment. But he had once again cleared the house. The beast did not follow.

Lying on his side, panting heavily, Chance struggled to think. What would Shadow do now?. He clearly wasn't winning this way. The Evening Wolf had the position of power. It had the strength, the speed, everything. Probably even the brains. Thinking had never been Chance's strong suit.

Gritting his teeth, the brave dog staggered to his feet, oblivious of the blood pooling beneath him as he swayed, trying to clear his blurring vision. Drawing his lips back once more, the dog snarled and prepared to wage another assault. It was his only option.

"Chance, it's the sun!," Sassy exclaimed from her position near the dog house "Shadow said it gets its strength from the moon. The moon isn't up yet, Chance!. The sun will weaken it,"

Chance halted in his advance, his mind working. How could he get the Evening Wolf off the porch and into the light?. He had only one idea. It was a stupid one, he was sure. But it was all he had. He ran at the Evening Wolf, but this time he went in low. The creature expected him to leap as he had before and swiped high, missing entirely as the dog latched onto the monster's ankle and bit deep.

Planting his feet, using the porch steps for leverage, the powerful dog heaved backward with all his strength. Snarling in fury, the Evening Wolf slashed at him. The claws cut deep through Chance's hide, but he didn't let go. True to bulldog form, he'd found his hold, and he wasn't letting go. The claws slashed again and again. Blood splashed to the left and right, spattering on the wooden railing and steps, sinking into the dry earth too. And still the dog held his grip, pulling with all his might. Inch by agonizing inch, the dog dragged his adversary towards the light.

But it wasn't enough. Blood loss was fast weakening him, and the Evening Wolf, now understanding his plan, was putting its own strength into holding its ground. It had always been the stronger of the two. It held its position, and continued to strike the helpless dog before it.

An angry yowl was the only warning as Sassy flung herself bodily from the porch railing and onto the creature's elongated snout. Needle sharp claws dug into the sensitive skin about the monster's nose and eyes, scratching down the soft lips and gums as the cat's teeth bit into a nerve cluster right above the beast's left eye. Blinded, confused and raging, the beast turned its attention to the vicious fur ball attached to its face. It reeled back, shifting its weight. Chance heaved backward, once again making inch by inch progress towards his goal.

Sassy dodged the first slash, slithering up higher on the beast's face. But then the beast raked its claws all the way down its own face, catching the small cat on the way down. The wounded Himalayan let out a wailing scream. The scream of a cat is one of the worst sounds in the world, and Sassy's was no exception to this rule. The beast had her in its grotesque hand, but instead of crushing her, it threw her as hard as it could to get the sound away from its hypersensitive ears.

Then it turned its attention to Chance once more. But before it could strike out at him again, something crashed heavily into the upper part of its back. Unbalanced, it pitched forward, rolling past Chance and into the sunlight. It shrieked, its body cracking, crunching, shrinking into itself, revealing the naked woman beneath the beast.

By the time Shadow leaped onto her from the porch, he was met by the terrified eyes of a human woman. But he didn't hesitate. Even as she was now helpless, Shadow knew it wouldn't last. In mere seconds, the moon would rise, and she would be as strong outside as she had been inside.

Powerful jaws closed around the white throat, cutting through skin, jugular, windpipe... and then tearing them from the woman's neck and casting them aside. Shadow stood over her, staring down at his enemy, waiting for the life to drain out of those all-too-human eyes.

A scent on the wind made him look up, towards the porch. Chance lay there on the steps, broken and bloodied. Beyond the porch, Sassy lay in the dirt, her fragile body seemingly ripped wide open, blood matting her beautiful coat. But it was not their blood which drew Shadow's attention. It was the scent... that hated scent. With dawning horror, Shadow realized what he should have known all along.

The Evening Wolf wasn't alone.

It had a mate.

"Holy Hell Hounds," Chance yelped, proving he was still alive by wiggling himself backwards down the stairs, either too afraid or too weak to get to his feet "there's two of them!,"

The second Evening Wolf stepped through the doorway and onto the broken door. Then it dropped to all fours to show the very muscles of its back crawling about and reforming themselves into something... other. The Wolf's very bones cracked audibly, breaking and knitting themselves into something new. From the human skin there burst ragged clumps of coarse white hair. The nose and mouth of the Wolf became as one, lengthening until the term Wolf seemed all but entirely accurate.

The creature threw back its head and howled. The low, terrible sound shook the house to its foundations. Glasses in the cupboards danced, rattled and broke against one another. The computer screen in the study cracked down the center, then exploded. The very sound was painful to the animals, who could not hold back cries, feeling as though their eardrums would burst. It was the sound of fury, and of loss. The sound was meant to evoke both the sensation and emotion of pain in any who heard it. For it was the cry of a Wolf who had lost its mate, its lifelong companion.

Even the children upstairs, having no idea what was going on outside, could hear and understand the woebegone ululation.

"It's me you want!," Shadow barked when the howl started to die away "I'm the one who took her from you!. So come and get me!,"

The lone Evening Wolf hesitated, casting a wary eye towards the sky. But the moon had risen, even if the human eye couldn't see it in the middle of the day. And the Wolf stepped from the shadows without incident. Even as it did, Shadow was backing away, keeping his eyes on the enemy and thoughts on his objective. It had taken all they had to bring down just one Wolf. And, for this Wolf, the fight was personal. It was even stronger, and more animal than its mate had been.

The Evening Wolf stepped almost regally from the porch, as the King of Hell might deign to step from his throne. This otherworldly beast seemed to have walked right out of fantasy into reality, as one might walk across a room. Breaking down the barriers of the natural order, defying the very laws of nature. Born of tragedy, instilled with the very essence of evil. The embodiment of malice.

At the property line, Shadow turned and fled into the woods, leaving a clear blood trail behind him. With a infuriated roar, the grief-stricken Evening Wolf tore after him, bounding over the body of its dead mate without even seeming to notice that she was there.

"Shadow, don't!. You can't outrun it. It'll kill you!. Shadow... come back...,"

* * *

Upstairs, Peter had found animal control in the phone book and reported what was going on. To his surprise, they kept him on the line, and asked a bunch of questions that didn't seem very relevant. They'd asked Shadow's breed, and his age, and if the dog had ever shown aggressive tendencies before. Peter answered all of that, and then they asked whether or not the person attacked lived with them.

"No, but Aunt Tracy's been here before. Shadow loves her, and Uncle Jim too. Shadow likes everyone. Or... at least... at least he did," Peter bit his lip to keep from crying.

"_It's alright, Peter. We're sending someone over to help you,"_ the feminine voice, she'd called herself Vicki, assured him gently.

"Are you... gonna have to put him down?," Peter asked shakily.

"_We won't know that until someone sees him. For now just stay where you are. Don't move, okay?. I have a few more questions for you. Do you have any other animals?,"_

"Y-yes... Chance, our other dog... and... and Sassy, she's Himalayan,"

"_Have the other animals been acting strange?,"_

"No... just Shadow, I think. Have Chance or Sassy being acting strange?,"

"Chance won't play," Jamie volunteered.

"I keep finding Sassy on the bookshelves," Hope replied "and she won't come down, except when I feed her or at night,"

"I guess they have," Peter told Vicki slowly "do you think they're afraid of Shadow too?,"

"_Maybe. Has Shadow been aggressive towards your other pets recently?,"_

"He and Chance had a fight last night," Peter said.

"_Did you see it?. Do you know what happened?. Were they fighting over a toy or food or... anything like that?,"_

"No. I mean, I don't think so. I didn't see it. We actually thought it was Chance who started it, he's the younger of the two. But then Shadow went after Aunt Tracy... and... and... well...,"

"_You're doing fine, Peter. This information is very important. Okay?. What kind of dog is Chance?,"_

"He's... I don't know... some kind of Bulldog, I think. Jamie, do you remember?,"

"Umm... the pound said he was a Pit Bull, but Dad says he doesn't look like one," Jamie replied.

"I dunno... a Pit type dog, I guess,"

"_Around how big?. Bigger than Shadow?,"_

"Yes. He's taller, and heavier. And much younger,"

"_I see. Were either of the animals hurt in the fight?,"_

"Yeah. Shadow took the worst of it, but I don't think he was hurt that bad. We were gonna take him to the vet... tomorrow,"

"_So you're saying an elderly golden retriever picked a fight with a young bulldog, and wasn't badly injured by the end of it?,"_

"Yes, Ma'am," Peter said "I know it sounds strange, but Chance isn't really much of a fighter. He's pretty much harmless... then again... I though Shadow was too,"

"_Okay. Now, Peter, this may sound very strange. But... has your Aunt been acting... odd lately?,"_

* * *

"We've gotta go after him," Chance whimpered.

He had crawled over to where Sassy lay, and was nosing her and gently licking her fur, trying to rouse the prone and seemingly lifeless feline.

"Sassy, come on. We've gotta go help Shadow. Sassy, please wake up. You've gotta get up,"

But the cat didn't move. She didn't even seem to be breathing. Her whole body smelled of blood, and there were four slashes across her back and sides from where the Wolf had grabbed her. Except for the wind blowing her fur, there was no sign of movement. None at all.

"Sassy, please!. I can't do this without you. Sassy... wake up,"

So consumed with Sassy was he that Chance didn't even notice as, behind him, Tracy's body was slowly shifting, turning gray, forming lethargically back into the creature.

The Evening Wolf was being reborn under the moon.


	11. Chapter 11

Shadow knew he wouldn't get far. He felt keenly the loss of blood and the weakness that came as a direct result. Every step was painful and difficult, and he struggled to maintain his course. His legs wanted to simply fold up under him, but he refused to let them.

He had home field advantage though. Aside from which, this was exactly the sort of scenario he'd been thinking about during the morning. He leaped fallen logs and plunged through thickets, and the Evening Wolf came crashing after him, blinded by rage. It had the power to uproot whole trees, but that took more time than jumping or going around. Any thinking creature knows to go around a boulder instead of over it if they want to save energy and get to their destination faster.

That was the weakness of the Evening Wolf. Consumed by want, by desire, by hate and fury and hunger and lust, the beast had barely any room for thought. It was a wonton murderer, a killer for the pleasure of killing. There was not an animal in nature who could claim to be anything like it.

It was the creature's rage-induced inefficiency which Shadow was counting on to stay ahead of it. He couldn't outrun it, not if he were to run a straight line from point A to point B. He couldn't lose it, its nose was at least as powerful as his own. It could follow his trail almost anywhere.

But he needed more distance. Somehow, he had to slow the creature down. Suddenly, he remembered the brook where Chance had originally encountered the Evening Wolf. The brook. Water covered scent, any dog who'd chased animals to the edge of a stream knew that. And unless the animal crossed directly to the other side, it was nearly impossible to figure out where it went.

Shadow put on as much speed as he could, making a beeline for the brook, the Evening Wolf hot on his heels, now and then growling as if to let him know it was still there, still angry, and still after him. Shadow had more than one reason to hurry. He didn't have much time left. The wound across his belly was severe and it wouldn't be long before not even adrenaline could keep him running.

He reached the brook and leaped into it, splashing upstream towards his desired destination. He knew that he was done for, as was Chance. Sassy... he didn't know if she was even alive. But they lived near town. If he could get there, he knew that there were other dogs, dogs who would see the monster, recognize it for what it was, and attack it for the same reason that he had. To protect their own families.

If nothing else, they might at least slow it down, or distract it until... until what?. He had no solution. He was out of ideas. Some instinct told him that the Wolf back at the house wasn't dead. He didn't know how he knew that, but he did. That meant that their best had not been enough to kill even one Evening Wolf. There was nothing for it now but to run, to keep running, until there was no more strength in him to do so. It was all he could do. It was all he had left.

Leaving the brook, Shadow charged uphill, towards the road. Behind him, he heard the Evening Wolf roar in fury. It had found the end of his trail. He knew it would find him again, by air scenting if it had to, but it would find him. Probably sooner than he expected it to.

Shadow's breath was coming in painful gasps, and each uphill leap was pure agony. The leaves beneath his paws seemed dead set on betraying his footing, sending him sliding back to the bottom of the hill where the Evening Wolf was lying in wait. A triumphant howl echoed through the woods, telling Shadow that his trail had been relocated, and that the Evening Wolf would soon be upon him.

At last, he struggled up onto the verge. For a moment, his legs seemed unable to lift him to a standing position and he floundered in the leaves helplessly. Then two things happened simultaneously. A black car screeched to a halt inches from him and he heard the Evening Wolf crashing about below and behind. Two men got out of the car.

"No, drive away," Shadow whined, even though he knew they couldn't understand "run away,"

As they started towards him, Shadow dragged himself to his feet. They'd left him no choice. Shadow could not permit the Evening Wolf to harm anyone, not so long as there was breath in his body. As these people had foolishly chosen to stop here of all places in the world, Shadow must make his stand here. Taking a shaky breath, he squared himself, lowered his head, and growled.

"Come and get me, Jim. Face me, if you dare,"

The Evening Wolf halted, still screened by the trees. Shadow could hear its rasping breath, smell its vile stench. But he couldn't see it. He growled again, and heard an answering snarl. But still the Evening Wolf hung back. Then Shadow barked.

"If you want me, come and take me!,"

Like a flash of lightning, the Wolf burst from the forest, blood red mouth agape, huge fangs flashing white in the brilliant light of the sun, forelegs extended beyond its mutant body with paws spread and claws reaching out to catch the dog in a deadly embrace.

Shadow lunged to meet his enemy. Had anyone who knew him been there, they wouldn't have recognized him. Every line of the great dog's body was hostile, the rage on his face seemed all but alien on him, and the look in his eyes could be considered nothing short of murderous. He was a different dog in that moment, a demon every bit as terrible as the Evening Wolf itself.

The two beasts met in the air, and the Evening Wolf was flung back. They rolled downhill, claws slashing, jaws snapping, each seeking to kill the other by the time they reached the bottom of the hill. At the last second, Shadow tore free, and lay bleeding halfway up the hill while the Wolf continued on down. At the bottom, the Evening Wolf regained its feet and leaped towards its helpless enemy.

It never made it.

A sound, as sharp and clear as the crack of a bullwhip, punched through the air. It echoed through the forest, and then died away into silence. The Wolf fell dead inches from Shadow's face, its mouth open in a hideously betrayed grin.

Weakly, Shadow raised his head and looked uphill. Two men were climbing down, warily eying the dead Evening Wolf. One was holding a smoking gun. Sniffing, Shadow smelled the smoke. Had he known anything about guns and bullets, he might have been surprised to catch the scent of silver. But he didn't so the foreign smell meant little to him.

But he did know that these men had killed the Evening Wolf. They'd done it once. And that meant they could do it again. He got to his feet through sheer force of will and staggered up to meet them. He took the jacket sleeve of one man in his mouth and tugged at it, before letting go and sliding partway down the hill. He stopped and looked over his shoulder. When they didn't follow, he barked.

"Think that dog knows where the other one is?," the younger man asked, looking up at the older one.

"Maybe. I'll follow him on foot. You keep going to the Seaver house. I'll meet you there,"

Shadow barked again, and then set off into the woods. He wanted to run all the way home. But he couldn't. Partially because he was too tired. But also because he'd lose the man if he did that. So he settled for a fast trot, and prayed he wasn't too late.

* * *

Chance had heard the gun shot. It was the sound which saved his life. The She-Wolf had just risen and was preparing to leap on the dog without warning. The gun shot made Chance jump and look around wildly. Seeing the She-Wolf, he whirled at once to face the creature, but was slow in getting to his feet. Blood dripped from his side, joining the pool which had already formed on the ground.

"Why won't you just die?," Chance growled, then flung himself upon the Evening Wolf with every bit of ferocity that was left in him.

He might not be able to save his own life, but maybe, just maybe, in sacrificing himself, he might give the others time to... get away... or somehow be saved. He didn't know how, but he' spent most of his life in the dark, and that had never stopped him before.

It was about this time that Hope dared look out the window. Everything had been quiet, and she had heard the shot. Thinking maybe it was over, she couldn't help but look. What she saw made her scream. At once, her brothers rushed to her side and looked out.

They couldn't recognize the giant malformed black wolf as their aunt, but they knew it sure as Hell wasn't Shadow that Chance was fighting with.

"What is it?!," Hope screamed.

"I don't know!. I don't know!," Peter shouted back, unable to maintain a level head any longer.

"It's got Chance!," Jamie cried, as Hope wailed at the same time "It killed Sassy!,"

The Evening Wolf lifted the dog from the ground and threw him violently aside, then turned and advanced on the fallen canine. Chance got his front feet under him, but his back feet didn't seem to have the strength to hold him. He sat helpless, growling menacingly at the beast.

Then, out of the woods came a golden-yellow streak. Taking off from the ground, Shadow hurled himself at the back of the Evening Wolf's head, his jaws striking their mark at the base of the skull. Roaring in pain, the Evening Wolf reared back and reached for the dog with one of its clawed hands.

But Shadow released his hold and slid to the ground, where he lay completely still. A single shot rang out, and the Evening Wolf stumbled back, stepping on the fallen retriever as it did so, lost its balance and fell onto its side where its body began to spasm and shudder violently.

As the children watched in horror, the black wolf shrank down, folding in on itself until it began to take the familiar shape of a woman. And then the even more familiar shape of their aunt. Hope burst into tears and buried her head in her older brother's shoulder, sobbing uncontrollably. Peter was too shocked to do anything except hold her and stare out the window.

Yet, even now, he felt a pang of guilt for ever having doubted his dog.

He led his sister over to the door and opened it, then led the way down the stairs and out of the house.

The battlefield messy. There was blood everywhere, on everything. Broken glass was strewn about the torn ground. At the center of it all was a strange dark haired man with a gun, standing over what had been their Aunt Tracy. He was wearing the uniform for the local animal control officers.

"Wh-what... happened?," Peter asked shakily.

"Son, I hate to be the one to tell ya this, but your Aunt Tracy was a Werewolf,"

"But... Werewolves... they're not... um... real. Are they?," Jamie wanted to know.

"They're every bit as real as you or I. Most people don't see 'em is all," the man replied kindly "see, thing about the supernatural is, you only get to see it when you're ready. It doesn't play by the rules of man or even nature. Maybe not even God, but I don't claim to know a great deal about His rules,"

"But... I... Aunt Tracy was... a Werewolf?," Peter stumbled over the words.

"Yep,"

"How... did you know?,"

"We don't see many Werewolves out this way," the man explained "but a few nights ago we started seein' signs, gettin' calls about weird animal attacks. If you want to hunt the big bad wolf, bein' in animal control is where you ought to be. Your call fit the description of a family member gone Wolf. See, animals can sense things people can't. Your dogs, they knew, probably from the moment your Aunt Tracy arrived. Lord knows why it takes 'em time to act, but they always do,"

Remembering their pets for the first time, the children looked around. The two dogs had quietly dragged themselves over to the cat, who still hadn't moved. Before they could go to the animals, a car turned into the driveway.

"We can help 'em, if they're alive," the man said kindly "I've done a lot of patchin' up in the field,"

He turned and approached the three animals. Chance raised his head and growled, trying to get up enough strength to stand and face this potential new foe.

"He's just trying to help, Chance. Relax," Shadow whispered "For goodness sake, let him,"

Chance fell silent and dropped his head onto his paws. But he didn't take his eyes off the man, and curled his lip silently when the man picked up Sassy and carried her off into the house. He actively growled when the younger man hefted him into his arms and carried Chance into the house. But the man ignored him, and Chance was too exhausted to follow through on his threat anyway.

The older man, who introduced himself as John, examined and tended to the animals one by one.

"Those are some tough animals you've got there," John told the kids "they're going to be fine,"

"Loyal, too," the younger man, Sam, added "the old dog was trying to lead one of the Werewolves away from the house. Soon as it was dead, he turned back to deal with the one here,"

The children didn't speak. They were too much in shock about the whole ordeal.

* * *

_A/N: Tomorrow's chapter is the epilogue_


	12. Epilogue

**MONDAY**

"Sometimes out in the country, you get packs of dogs gone feral," John explained to Mom and Dad the next day "they can do some darn crazy things. Good thing you have two big dogs who'll stand by ya. Ain't nothin' better than a good dog at your side,"

He didn't tell them about the Werewolves. He told the children they'd be better off not saying anything either. The evidence was gone. Without seeing it firsthand, it was highly unlikely their parents would believe anything they had to say about Werewolves. Most people didn't. Like he'd said, people didn't see unless they were ready to believe.

The world of the supernatural existed in virtual secrecy, because people didn't want to see. They didn't want to believe. Because the supernatural didn't play by the rules. The silver in the bullets was more symbolic than anything. The reason they killed the Werewolves was basically because of "magic".

Unlike television and movies, the science wasn't cut and dried. It was never a matter of saying the right words and simply believing hard enough. That would be a kind of science. Werewolves didn't fit into any science. Which is why the world rejected them, and that which was like them. Because it was too different from the natural way of things. Because there were no scientific explanations for how and why. They simply existed.

"You say you got the whole pack?," Dad asked nervously, holding tight to his wife.

"I think so, and your dogs seem to be agreein' with that," John replied.

He then told how Shadow had led "some of the pack" away from the house, and then returned "for the rest of them". He said that, if there were more, Shadow would know about it, and probably wouldn't rest until he'd taken care of them too.

"I wouldn't worry," John said "takes years to build up a large pack like the one which was here. Abandoned dogs tend to die or just become regular strays. Vicious packs like this... not common around here,"

"Well, thank you," Dad said, then shook John's hand.

"Thank your dogs," John replied, smiling "and your cat too, if she'll accept it. I ain't never heard of a cat that would fight off wild dogs. Pack mentality ain't a part of their makeup,"

* * *

The three animals lay together in the living room. Later, they would be taken to the vet to check up on them. But for now, they were resting, and simply glad to be alive.

"Let's never have an adventure again," Chance sighed after awhile.

"Amen to that, sweety," Sassy mewed "I'm never going outside again for as long as I live,"

"I don't think I'll ever feel like chewing again," Chance continued "I'll just sleep for the rest of my life. And eat. Eating is good,"

"Don't be ridiculous, you two," Shadow grunted "you'll both get better, and you'll go right back to what you've always done. That's what youngsters do. They bounce back. Given time, you may even forget about all of this. Oh not entirely, you'll always have the experience to draw on,"

"You talk like you're not gonna get better," Chance said "what's wrong?,"

"Nothing, Chance. I'm just tired. That's all,"

"Fine. But stop talking like you're gonna die. That's not gonna happen, okay?,"

"Yes, Chance. Yes, it will. Maybe not now. But soon enough. Certainly before you do, if I have my way about it. Everybody dies, Chance. Whether it's injury, illness or old age, it will happen. It will happen to me. And to you. And, yes, it will even happen to Peter and Jamie eventually,"

"But I don't want you to die. And I don't want to die either,"

"Of course you don't," Shadow told him "no creature with any sense _wants_ to die. But there's no reason to be afraid of it. It's a fact of life, just like being born, just like growing old. The only thing you need to worry about is not dying before your time,"

"I don't follow," Chance admitted.

"Neither do I," Sassy chimed in.

"You'll understand. One day. If you want to,"

Shadow was right, of course. Shadow was always right. Whether Chance liked it or not, that was a simple fact he'd learned that he could not deny. For a moment, they were all silent.

"Hey," Chance was, as usual, the first to break it "I think I smell chicken,"

He scrambled to his feet and limped hurriedly to the kitchen, wagging his tail.

"I do smell chicken!. Hey, you wanna share that chicken?. Some of the chicken?. All of the chicken?. Please, please, please?. Just drop some, I'll eat it off the floor. Come on!,"

"Stupid dog," Sassy purred affectionately.

"All young dogs are," Shadow replied mildly "he'll learn. In time,"

"And with a good teacher," Sassy added, standing and then walking over to curl up next to Shadow "you're the only dog I've ever known who was worth following,"

"Give him time. Chance has more potential than you may think. You see, Chance knew. Right from the start. He may not know he knew, but he did. He knew about Tracy, about the mailman and maybe even about Jim. He knew right from the start what I had to figure out,"

"What good does that do him if he doesn't realize it?," Sassy asked.

"He will. One day. When he's ready,"

* * *

_A/N: Thank you kindly for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it._


End file.
